Still Not A Virgin
by Marilyn Stabs
Summary: Malfoy plays a cruel trick on Hermione on a bet. Now he's stuck working with her all summer in a muggle bookstore. Can he make up for the damage he's done? Not as fluffy as it sounds, kids. I HEART reviews!
1. Eating in the Library

Author's note: I own nothing but the workings of my own imagination. I like this story so far. Right now it's just sort of plotless porn, but bear with me. The plot will be arriving next chapter! If you don't trust that I can write PWP, check out my other story 'Slide'. And to anyone who's read that, and is reading this: sorry about the delay in updates. This idea has been swimming around in my head and I had to get it started before I could get back to Draco and Harry's little drama. Anyway, enough chatter. Just read, my children….  
  
  
  
  
Hermione was squirming around in her wet panties. That was not a feeling she'd ever have thought she would have enjoyed. She personally thought that all bodily fluids were disgusting.  
  
She knew that not everyone felt this way about such things. In many of the Muggle romance novels she'd secretly read over the summer in the Muggle bookshop where she'd worked over the summer, the characters were quite excited about each others…er…juices. They'd rub it all over themselves in such a way that made Hermione want to gag and quake in enjoyment at the same time. That was basically her reaction to sex in general. She found it disgusting and fascinating at the same time. Not that she'd ever had it.  
  
"Hermione."  
  
Her name was spoken in a long, tired drawl. She nearly shivered. But she kept her composer, sitting up straight and turned her head. She mustered up her 'impassive Hermione' face, and flashed it at Malfoy.  
  
He was grinning malevolently at her. Damn him. Hermione knew he must have known what that look did to people of her gender preference.   
  
She shook her head. What in hell was wrong with her tonight? She was not acting like herself at all. The real Hermione would not be gazing lustfully at anyone, let alone MALFOY.   
  
She blamed her sudden hormone attack on her lack of sleep over the past few days. With the school year pulling to an end, she needed to study like mad for her N.E.W.T.S. She hadn't got much sleep as a result.  
  
And it wasn't just studying that kept her up at night. Her dorm-mate Lavender and her knew beau Neville were equally to blame. They'd been noisy to start with, but now that they'd been dating (well, fucking anyway) for a month, things had started to get bizarre. Apparently Neville had become comfortable enough with Lavender to reveal his fetish with the Muggle movie series 'Star Wars'. So now, on top of the moaning and groaning, Hermione also had to listen to the theatrics. It was hard to sleep when your roommate was traipsing around with two buns over her ears and a white sheet, spouting off things like "But Luke, I'm your sister! Isn't this wrong?" and "Oh my Gawd, Luke, that's the longest light saber I've EVER seen!"  
  
Hermione nearly groaned at the memory.  
  
"Granger, would you please come back to earth so we can get started," Malfoy snorted.  
  
Hermione scowled up at him, "I'll take as long as I want, thanks. If I remember correctly, I'm doing you a favor by helping you study. If you want my help, I'd suggest you shut it."  
  
Malfoy waved his hands in the air, "My sincerest apologies, Granger! I didn't mean to set you off."  
  
"You didn't," Hermione snapped, "Now sit down and lets get started."  
  
Malfoy slipped into the seat across from her obediently. He pulled his book in front of him and folded his hands across it, and stared at her expectantly.   
  
Hermione looked down at her own book, her eyes dashing up to look at him a again. She really didn't know why he was insisting on her assistance in studying. Up until today he'd merely ignored her existence all together. They hadn't really talked since they were forth years. He still badgered Harry a lot, but he'd apparently lost interest in her. Not that she cared.  
  
She chewed her lip thoughtfully, looking away from the blonde boy in front of her.  
  
"Any time now. I have somewhere to be tonight, you know," Malfoy whined. His good looks were starting to have less of an effect on her. His bitch attitude over shadowed them.  
  
"No, I didn't know. But I should have guessed you'd be going out to victimize some poor girl tonight."  
  
Malfoy smiled again, wickedly, "They're hardly victims, Granger. For you information, by the time I'm done with them, they're BEGGING me to fuck the-"  
  
"I really don't need to hear that, Malfoy," Hermione cut him off. She squirmed in her seat again and prayed to the gods that she wasn't blushing.  
  
Malfoy fake gasped, "Is that color I see in your cheeks, Granger? Could it be that our dearest Hermione is a VIRGIN?"  
  
He said the word virgin like a nun would say the word 'masturbate'. Hermione gulped.  
  
"I don't see how thats relevant," she tossed out, fumbling around with her papers and trying to look distracted.   
  
"Of course it is. No wonder you're so uptight all the time. You're not getting any sexual release!"  
  
She really wanted to smack him. Right in his pretty face. She'd wanted to see the red hand print glowing over that perfect, pale skin.  
  
She bit her lip instead, and looked down.  
  
She heard Malfoy's chair scrap across the library floor.   
  
"Isn't our little Hermione getting any…" he leaned in close, so she could smell his musky scent, "Satisfaction?"  
  
Her head tilted up and she caught his stormy silver gaze. His eyes were twinkling. "Look, Malfoy, you don't know what you're talking about, so why don't you shut up?"  
  
He didn't back up. Instead he lifted one hand and ran one of his long fingers along her jaw line.  
  
"I just want to help you, Granger," he purred.  
  
What in hell was he saying? Was he really offering to…?  
  
She jumped back.  
  
"I don't need your help, Malfoy. Back off," she said firmly. She hoped her face was reflection her disgust with his conduct.  
  
Well, not pure disgust. Disgust tinged with interest.   
  
Malfoy frowned at her for a minute, them looked up at her, "Fine," he said with a pout, "Then lets get to work. But don't say I didn't offer."  
  
Hermione shifted under his gaze. He couldn't have been serious. She knew he couldn't be. He would never…do that. Not with her. He was the most gorgeous boy in the school. And she was just herself. Sure, she was never lax for male attention, but she was no model. Her hair was dark brown instead of sparkling blonde and her breasts were a size B at best. She did have rather long legs, and she'd grown into the teeth that had been her calling card when she was younger. She wasn't bad looking, at least she didn't think so. But the girls Malfoy was with were…amazing. She wasn't his type at all.  
  
She straightened her back, unconsciously throwing out her chest and lowered her brows over her eyes. She pulled her book in front of her, and glanced down.  
  
"What are the three elements needed for a cold cure potion?" she asked him.  
  
He sighed, as if some how disappointed in her. Then, tossing back his veil of white hair he rattled off the ingredients.  
  
"Impressive," she said shortly, "Ok, what rare ingredient found at the top of the Gremlin mountains is-"  
  
"Purple clover leaves," he answered, cutting her short, "They're commonly used in cure-all potions and minor wound healers."  
  
Hermione cocked her head to the side, "It doesn't really seem like you need my help with any of this, Malfoy."   
  
He looked at her, "Look, the real reason I'm here is to see you."  
  
He said it, just like that. Emotionless. Left open to any interpretation. Hermione's mouth dropped for a second before she snapped it shut.  
  
"What? Why?" she sputtered.  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Stop being so dense, Granger. Have you seen yourself? You've grown into one hot little number. Everyone's been talking about you all year. How much you've changed. At first I didn't care, but the more I see you, the more I want you. The years almost over. I couldn't go home without giving it a try."  
  
Hermione wasn't sure she'd heard right. Her? A hot little number? Had he REALLY just said that?  
  
"You expect me to believe that?" she asked him, scooting away a little.  
  
"Why else would I say it? Do you think I run around making an ass out of myself for fun?" he asked quite seriously. Hermione took that into consideration. It was true, Malfoy had too much pride to do something like that without a damn good reason. But was SHE a good reason?  
  
Before she had time to ask, Malfoy rose up out of his seat, robes draping down around his long body. Hermione gulped.  
  
He moved around the table and knelt down before her. Hermione didn't miss the symbolism there. Malfoy was on his knees before her.  
  
His eyes were on fire. When his hand brushed over hers, she felt her organs turn to ashes. She felt like she was under a boiling waterfall. He leaned over slowly, letting his full lips brush over her knuckles like a feather. His tongue darted out, wetting her fingers and he straightened them and drew her index in between his lips.  
  
She had to fight her body not to collapse right there. She forced her hormones in line and jerked her hand away.  
  
"Malfoy, what do you think you're doing?" she snapped, but her voice came out too husky for the effect she wanted. Damn it. Damn it to hell!  
  
Her inside were dancing. Her heart was pounding. And something was happening between her thighs that she'd never felt before.  
  
"I'm LICKING you, Granger," Malfoy growled. His pink tongue stabbed out of his mouth and he turned her hand over and touched it to her pulsing wrist. His lips closed over it and he started to suck her skin.  
  
A tingle ran over her body and at that moment, the naughty part of her personality surfaced. This part of her was unhindered by good morals and values, and was motivated by pure carnal instincts. This part of her scampered out wearing all leather and chains, shouting "GO FOR IT GRANGER!' like some kind of perverted cheerleader. Give me an O! R! G! A! S! M!  
  
"No," she said out loud to that part of herself, but she knew it didn't sound very convincing. Maybe her inner slut had the right idea.  
  
Malfoy was now suckling his way up her arm to the inside of her elbow. Her breath came ragged as her reached the sensitive area. She pressed her lips together, hard, trying not to make a sound. She could not give Malfoy the satisfaction of hearing her enjoyment.  
  
"You taste good," Malfoy said against her arm. Did she? Her body shivered in excitement. Maybe she did taste good. Wouldn't that be something?  
  
Then something in her snapped, and she grabbed Malfoy's chin and slammed her lips into his. She parted his lips with her tongue and ran it all around his mouth, licked everywhere and then pulled away as quickly as she had started the kiss.  
  
"So do you," she purred, smiling.  
  
Malfoy simply glowered at her, sneering like a demon. Then his arms curled around her back and he yanked her to the floor.  
  
Hermione's last ounce of common sense drained out of her at that moment and a second later she found herself in a tangle of body parts, having her mouth invaded by Malfoy's enemy tongue. They battled together, sucking and biting and stabbing. Finally, Hermione had to give in and come up for air. While she was gasping madly for breath, Mafloy's lips suctioned onto her neck. His saliva made a sensitive line down her throat. The air assaulted her there, nipping frostily at her skin.  
  
There was a grunting noise that she later realized had come from her. She liked it. It sounded sexy. She wasn't used to sounding sexy.  
  
She let out a few more moans and gasps as Malfoy's hands explored her back and ass. She squealed when he pinched her skin, and watched as his face responded gratefully. She'd always heard that men like a noisy women to confirm that they were doing it right. And Malfoy certainly was.   
  
Suddenly feeling very fearless, Hermione grabbed her shirt and yanked it over head. Malfoy's gray eyes grew wide, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His lips were half parted and he was panting. PANTING! The Draco Malfoy was panting at the sight of her breasts! Oh gods.  
  
His hands left her back and cupped her breasts through the black fabric of her bra. He kissed in between them, letting his eyes close. She could feel his lashes fluttering against her.  
  
"Oh God, Granger, I'm sorry," he moaned quietly.  
  
Huh?  
  
"Huh?"  
  
He didn't answer, just started tugging down the straps of her bra, trying madly to get at her nipples. But she was too distracted to enjoy it. What had he meant, he was sorry? Sorry about what?  
  
"Malfoy," she said, "Malfoy, what did you just say."  
  
"Nothing," he said against her chest. She tried to pull away but at that moment he yanked her bra down her devoured her breast. His lips, teeth and tongue were working madly to turn her on. And it was working. Her nipples stood up like she were skinny dipping naked in Alaska.  
  
When he moved to the other breast, leaving the first to be bathed in cool air, she forgot all about his strange comment. She closed her eyes and just let her self go. She just wanted to enjoy this.  
  
She wasn't at first aware of his fingers at her skirt. But when she felt the breeze rush up to meet her hot sex, she jerked up.  
  
"Malfoy, what are-"  
  
His finger over her lips shushed her, as his other hand circled around between her thighs. Her eyes fell closed heavily, like she were drugged. She was helpless against his caresses. For the first time since this started, she wondered how she'd gotten herself into this.   
  
He pushed her legs apart with his hand and ran his fingers over the lips of her vagina through the thin cotton of her soaked panties. As he started to stroke her there, she kissed the finger that still covered her lips.  
  
"Hermione," she heard him mutter. Her eyes opened and she saw what he was staring at. She immediately tried to close her legs but her jerked his hand away from her lips and stopped her.  
  
"No, please, don't" he pleaded. He looked at her with eyes like saucers. She nodded slowly, which caused his face to contort in anguish. What was going on in that pretty head? Malfoy seemed to be in the middle of a fierce internal battle.   
  
He was gnawing on his bottom lip like it was a chew toy and Hermione was starting to get the proverbial ants in her pants. Time to pick up some speed.   
  
She slowly began to slide her knees apart, letting them fall to the sides and she dropped her head back. Her mouth fell open and she arched up so that Malfoy's fingers, abandoned and still resting mid-stroke, pressed against her mound again. She let a long, low moan rush out from between her lips.  
  
That caught his attention. He snapped to attention, and pressed into the cotton panties, pressing his fingers up into her through the cotton. Hermione moaned for real now, and struggles against the presser. She wanted those long, perfect fingers up inside her, and the fabric restricting them was fats becoming her new enemy. She rubbed up and down, trying to get them in further.  
  
Malfoy was grinning at her, looking sort of evil. Hermione noticed that his perfect, baby thin blonde hair was looking a bit mussed up. It was falling over one eye in a very appealing way. She could defiantly see why girls were so eager to jump in bed with him.  
  
He was still rubbing her down there when she'd had enough.  
  
"Malfoy, you idiot," she spat gruffly, "Take them off!"  
  
He flashed a lopsided smile, "I was just waiting for permission," he said. Hermione cats him a puzzle look. What the hell was with him tonight?  
  
His fingers curled around the straps of her knickers and he yanked them down. Hermione pushed herself away from them, wanting them off as fast as possible. In the process, she slide across the shiny floor. Malfoy balled up the panties and shoved them aside, then dropped to his hands and sat up on his knees. He crawled over to her.   
  
His hands slide up her legs and he leaned in, as if to kiss her. Hermione dropped her head back a little, and he came closer. She moved back more and he moved closer still. Finally, when her head was only an inch or so above the floor, he licked her bottom lip and jerked away. His head disappeared between her thighs.  
  
She didn't know quite what happened next. She was suddenly in the tight grasp of ecstasy. Malfoy's wet, slippery tongue was filling the void in her body. It was roaming, and tasting and licking up to her womb. She was panting and sweating. Her body began to quake. When he pulled it out and licked the lips of her vagina she started mumbling his name. And when he stabbed it back in again and began to thrust it in madly as if he wanted to eat her from the inside out she began to scream it. Malfoy! Malfoy! Malfoy!  
  
And then she was somewhere else. Her body was shaking and she felt feverish. Waves of molten lava rolled over her, over and over. She felt her whole world go move into the steady rhythm of her climax.  
  
She was vaguely aware of Malfoy sitting up and licking his lips like he'd been eating candy, instead of her. She was still coming when he pulled her up and kissed her slowly. He seemed to want to be a part of it, and she couldn't blame him. This was pure pleasure. Satisfaction. Complete and total satisfaction.  
  
She sighed as it ended and looked at Malfoy.   
  
"How do you feel, Granger?" he asked, smirking.  
  
She shrugged nonchalantly, "Alright, I suppose."  
  
He stared at her like he was going to kill her for a minute, before breaking out into a smile that stretched ear to ear. "You really are something else, you know that? That wasn't…"  
  
He trailed off as the color suddenly disappeared from his face.  
  
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked. Had she done something wrong?  
  
But she realized he was looking behind her. He stood up suddenly and turned away from her. Something fell heavy into the pit of her stomach. She heard noises behind her and she turned ever so slowly, fearing what she would see.  
  
"RIGHT ON, MALFOY!" an excited grunt came.  
  
"You really did it! Oh man, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard it. 'Malfoy! Oh gods, Malfoy!'"  
  
"You really ARE the stud of the year, boy!"  
  
Hermione was suddenly faced with a crowd of Slytherin boys, all red faced from excitement. They all looked down at her at once and she quickly tugged her skirt down and slapped her hands over her chest.  
  
"So how was it, Granger?" A dark haired boy asked.  
  
"Yeah, was that your first time?" said another.  
  
She couldn't believe this was happening. She was too shocked to even blush. She just felt heavy and drugged. This was unreal. This wasn't happening. It couldn't really be happening. Oh, please god, don't let it be real.  
  
One boy grabbed at her breast as she stood up and she slapped him away. But not before she felt her clammy palm over her skin. So this was real. It wasn't just some horrible, horrible dream. It was real and it was happening right now.  
  
She should have seen it coming.  
  
Malfoy. How could she have trusted him for a moment. How could she had left her guard down? How could she, practical, no-nonsense Hermione Granger fallen for Draco Malfoy's charms? How could she have really believed that he'd come there to see her tonight?  
  
That was the worst blow of all. She'd let it happen. It was all her fault.  
  
She snapped her head back towards Malfoy. He was facing her now with his arms held strangely out to his sides with his palms up, like her were offering something. His eyes were huge and pale. They held no more sparkle. His entire body had gone white.   
  
"Hermione…"he started. His voice was quiet and horse. She almost couldn't hear it over the cheers and hollers of the other boys.  
  
"Don't say anything, Malfoy," she growled, "Because one more word, and I may kill you."  
  
His body sagged and he shut his mouth. Hermione spun on her heal and grabbed her sweater. She pulled it over her head before strutting in through the mass of boys. They all yelled obscene things and grabbed at her ass and tits as she passed, but she couldn't feel or hear them. She was numb.  
  
Her entire body and mind were numb. 


	2. One Month Later

She stretched up like a cat, lazily. Her hands moved out in front of her and her body rolled out after them. Her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned, then returned back to her chair. It squeaked.  
  
She drummed her fingers on the plastic table and flipped a page of the book. Her eyes were burning now, because her stretch had been the first time she'd closed them in a good three minutes. Fabio and Catherine were making love in the cathedral and she was afraid if she blinked, the words would fade right off the page. Absently, she flicked her eyes up to the Muggle clock. She had five minutes until she was off break. Damn them, couldn't Fabio work a bit faster?  
  
She chewed her lip as she read, and starting to tap her foot. Four more minutes, then she'd have to shove 'The Reckless Duke' back on the shelf and pretend she wasn't interested in it until tomorrows break. This was a rather embarrassing hobby that she didn't want anyone to know about. Hermione Granger read trashy romance novels.  
  
Three minutes, and he was just now getting her dress off. HURRY! She wished Catherine wasn't such a pansy and would just rip Fabio freaking pants off. Her eyes ripped across the page. Fabio! She shouted to the character, I don't have time for you to relish in her beauty! Just make with the lovin' already!  
  
She stamped her foot as Catherine suddenly proclaimed that she was a virgin. Now Fabio was having second thoughts. He couldn't deflower the daughter of his father's best friend. What would the ton think of him? Oh, granted he already had the worst reputation of any of the men. He was suddenly worried about CONSIQENCES. Greeeeaaat.  
  
Hermione was practically huffing as Fabio sat up and turned away. He said he couldn't do it. DAMN YOU, FABIO! She screamed mentally. You can't leave Catherine like that. She hasn't gotten any satisfaction. Wait a tick, screw Catherine. Hermione wasn't getting any satisfaction either.  
  
Suddenly the clock was chiming. Damn it all to hell! Her break was over and Fabio was on his way out the door. She slammed the book closed and stood up, leaving the break room. She went back out into the store and hurriedly slapped the book on the shelf. She turned around just in time to see Jesse, the young Muggle store owner headed up to her.  
  
"Hey, babe, he was in here while you were on break," she said, grinning through her mess of black hair. She was playing with her fishnet sleeves, poking holes through it.  
  
"Who?" Hermione said, acting dumb.  
  
"The one with the long brown hair. Don't play dumb with Granger. He's been in her everyday since the summer started. I don't really think he's that interested in art history."  
  
Hermone grinned. The same boy had been coming in everyday. He would stand in front of the huge art collection books, which were conveniently closest to the counter where she worked. He would sneak looks at her while paging through Norman Rockwell's, and he bought up books like crazy, trying to look as though it were the art he was interested in, and not her.  
  
"He asked where you were. I told him you were in back reading that trash you always sneak off with," Jesse said, smiling wickedly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't think you're hiding anything. You've bent every single copy of 'Wicked Women' and last week you left 'Smoldering' on the table in back."  
  
"Erm…oh," Hermione said. Well great. Now Jesse knew. She guessed it wasn't that bad. Jesse wasn't about to tell anyone. Except the brown haired kid.  
  
"And I didn't really tell him," Jesse said.  
  
Oh. Well then, all was well.  
  
Hermione went back up front to the little shop she was working at for the second consecutive summer. She liked it here. It was an alternative bookstore jammed in between two coffee shops, and it got a good amount of business, but not so much that she couldn't work on her homework during off hours. Lately though, business was picking up, as the summer grew hotter and more and more tourists showed up. It was almost July. Last July they were swamped. It had been out of control the entire month. Hermione wasn't looking forward to a repeat of that.  
  
She tugged down her blue plaid skirt. Last summer, she'd picked up on Jesse's dressing habits and tried to appear more like her. The atmosphere of the store was more laid back. Casual sort of punk. This year, Hermione had bought a load of bondage-y skirts and black zip up tops and corset looking things in order to fit in. She'd also bought some tiny t-shirts with 'The Clash' written on them, which was Jesse's favorite band. Today, she wore her favorite skirt with a lacy black top and a giant bracelet that annoyed her all day, but did look nice. Her hair was fluffier than ever, what with all the humidity. But it didn't bother her, really. Bushy hair was her calling card. And the boy with brown hair didn't seem to mind.  
  
She smiled to herself. This summer was turning out to be pretty decent. She'd been more than happy to get away from Hogwarts. After IT happened.  
  
But she wasn't going to think about that. She never let herself think about that. She'd simply put it behind her and was going to forget about it, just like everyone else would after the long summer. It would be like it never happened.  
  
"Oh, Hermione," Jessie called from behind a box of books she was carrying in from the back.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I hired someone new, I forgot to tell you. Remember how swamped we were last year?"  
  
"Yes!" Hermione said, sagging under the wieght of the memory. Then she perked up, "Well, who is she?"  
  
"He, actually. I forgot his name…it was something weird. But I talked to him over the phone and he seems really nice. Really well mannered," Jess said, dropping the box at her feet and pulling out a few copies of a book with a pink cover.  
  
"Well, that's good. You only talked to him on the phone?" Hermione asked, looking at the books Jessie was shelving. It was an awful lot of pink books.  
  
"Yeah. Um, my mother knows his father. I guess he called her and asked if his son could work at my bookstore. From what I understand, the son isn't getting along to well with the father and they need a little break from each other."  
  
"Really?" Hermione said, cocking her head. "So he'll be staying in London then?"  
  
"Mmm, yeah. He's renting an apartment a few streets up."   
  
Hermione was still watching Jessie slide the pink books on the shelf. They had big, bold red letters printed across the front.  
  
"His own apartment? How old is he?" she asked Jesse.  
  
"Uh, you're age I think."  
  
The book said…Organism something. There was a picture on it too. No wait, she was reading that word wrong. It wasn't organism…  
  
"Do you know if he's good looking?" Hermione asked.  
  
Jesse looked up, eyes twinkling, "My mom's met him. She says if she were still a young girl she would have tossed her good Christian values to the breeze for this kid. I'm taking it that he's not too bad," she laughed.  
  
"Hmm…" Hermione said absent mindedly. She was still trying to read the cover of the pink book. The Art of the…the what? Female …Organism?   
  
Then she saw it. The picture was of a naked women. The book was called 'The Art of the Female Orgasm'.  
  
She made a mental note to check that out on her next break.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Masturbation.  
  
There was a chapter on masturbation. Hermione's hands were shaking as she nervously thumbed through the pink book propped up on the counter. Jesse was gone, out on an errand. It was late, almost closing time, and Hermione was all alone in the store.  
  
She was gaping at the illustrations. They were showing where the clit was located. She'd never even thought about her clit. According to this book, it was very important. One could not live a satisfying existence without knowing about the all important clitoris.   
  
The book said to sit on the floor with a mirror and prop it up to look inside yourself. Hermione wasn't quite sure she'd want to do that. What if she was ugly down there? What if she found out she didn't look right or something?  
  
A memory of Malfoy drifted though her mind. It just crept up on her, before she had a chance to ward it off. Her body jerked as she remembered his tongue up inside her. She felt a rush of heat spread up her legs and pool between her thighs, then rush out like a waterfall. She squirmed and chewed her lip harder than usual. Why the hell was she getting wet thinking of that bastard?  
  
She could suddenly feel his touch all over her body, like he was everywhere at once. The entire memory slammed into her in one instant, as she felt the entire ordeal repeated at light speed. Wham! Malfoy's mouth and lips and tongue and teeth all over her.  
  
Her hips buckled against the counter. Sweat dripped off her brow and she wiped it away. Damn it, it was just a memory. It wasn't as if it were happening now! But her reaction was real all right. She huffed out a big breath and tried to regain her composer.  
  
Maybe she ought to put this book away. But as she looked down to pick it up she realized she'd lost her page. Now it was open to a section titled 'The Joys of Oral Sex'. Oh fuck.  
  
She lost it then. Her entire body was on fire. Her skin was torturously sensitive. She was suddenly all too aware of the way her bra was rubbing against her hard nipples and the way her cotton panties rubbed against her as she shifted her weight. Her fingers slid over the paper book and her eyes blankly gaped at the book. She was seeing words like 'lick' and 'suck' and 'flick' and 'rub'. Phrases like 'better access' and 'self lubricating'. She couldn't read a straight line. She was just picking up here and there.  
  
…Use chocolate syrup…  
  
…Place a cherry inside…  
  
…Try it upside down…  
  
Oh God. She needed to put the book AWAY now! Just put it down, Hermione!  
  
But she couldn't. She just kept reading the words, and kept thinking about Malfoy. His hands on her. His eyes one her, looking at her. Staring at her breasts. She ran her hand over her chest absently. Then he'd kissed her. Her fingers trailed up to her lips. She brushed her fingers against them, remembering how Malfoy had sucked them into the steaming depths of his mouth. Her body was quaking. She could almost feel him with her again. His weight, his pressure, his temperature.   
  
Two hands slide up her waist.  
  
The book dropped to the floor and Hermione squealed at the top of her lungs. Her body spasm-ed as she jerked around. Her heart reeled in her chest.   
  
"Whattehfuck…" she panted, scared half to death. Her eyes rolled around and caught in two silver blurs.  
  
"Language!" his voice said, slathered with sarcasm. His face was lit up with a wicked grin that made her heart stop all together. That was the last smile she ever wanted to see. She wanted to die right now.  
  
She sucked in a breath and bellowed, "What the hell are you doing here? Get off me!"  
  
She backed away, against the wall, planting her palms against it.  
  
"If you want me too keep off of you, you shouldn't wear skirts like that. Do you have any idea what that makes me think about?" Malfoy laughed.  
  
He looked so casual, standing in her store like he belonged there. His hair glinted in the dim light. The moon filtering through the window made it glow iridescently. It moved with him as he took a step closer.  
  
"Malfoy, stay away from me," she gasped. Her body was in overdrive. She felt weak. She couldn't fend him off right now. She prayed he wasn't going to try anything.  
  
He didn't listen, he was still coming closer.  
  
"You do look good, Granger. I could never have pictured you dressed like this. You look hot."  
  
"Fuck you," she said, but it came out softly, and not at all threatening.   
  
"Really?" he said, looking hopeful. No. What was going on? Why was he here? And what was he wearing?  
  
His pants were tight and shinny. Leather. He wore a ribbed sweater over top with a large, pointy white collar sticking out of the top. He had a black necklace on, and black boots.  
  
It took her a moment to realize why it appeared so strange. She'd seen lots of boys dressed like that over the summer. But this was different. This was Malfoy. He was dressed like a Muggle.  
  
She pushed herself off of the wall and accidentally took a step closer. He moved closer too, bringing them almost nose to nose. Hermione took a deep breath.  
  
Stay calm, women! she commanded herself. Don't let him keep rattling you. You can be shocked later, now is not the time.  
  
She contorted her face out of it's look of utter astonishment and tried to look blank. But inside, he blood was rushing.  
  
"Malfoy, what are you doing here? This is a Muggle bookstore. This is a Muggle city," she demanded, making her voice stronger.  
  
He pulled himself up and tossed his sheet of glimmering hair. He looked positively giddy with excitement when he answered, "I work here, Granger." 


	3. Ain't no virtue, Aint no sin

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the terrific reviews, and for being patient with me waiting for the second chapter. I promise the next chapter will come more quickly.  
  
"No," she said firmly, like an ornery two year old. "No you don't!"  
  
He was smiling a smile that would charm a saint. "Yes, I do," he said, fluctuating his tone so that he sounded almost like he were singing.  
  
"No, you can't!" Hermione insisted, as if if she kept saying it, it would make it true. "*I* work here Malfoy. You can't work with me."  
  
"I can, and I do."  
  
Hermione turned away, finding his casual stare to be too overwhelming. "No, no, no…" she moaned, rubbing her face. "This can't be happening. God wouldn't do this to me!"  
  
"Do you believe in God, Granger?" Malfoy teased.  
  
"Not anymore," she snapped, jerking back around. "If there was a God he would have struck you dead by now, you bastard."  
  
Malfoy backed up with his hands in the air, "Whoa there, Granger. I hardly think I deserve to be dead."  
  
Hermione swallowed deeply, "Oh, did you forget about what you did in the library?"  
  
He dropped his hands, and his face fell with it, "No. But I would have thought you would have."  
  
"How do you figure I'd just forget something like that?"  
  
"You're Hermione Granger. You're too stuck up to give anyone the time of day, except fucking Potter and your red haired lover. I wouldn't have thought you even give me the satisfaction of loathing me," he said, frowning. He was standing in front of the window still, back lit by the dark sky coming through the slates of the curtains.  
  
Hermione stared at him. What in hell was he talking about? Did he want her to hate him or something?  
  
He must has noticed her confusion, because he continued, "Not that I want you to hate me. I'm just astonished that you'd ever even think of me."  
  
Hermione couldn't tell if he was being serious. If he wasn't, she didn't know what he was getting at. But if he was…Was he happy that she'd thought of him?  
  
"Well, don't let it make you feel too special, Malfoy. It's not as if I cry myself to sleep at night," she said.  
  
He grinned, "Well, I didn't expect you to. I know that you're a big girl. You aren't a pansy like some of the people I've…"  
  
"Flattery wont get you anywhere, Malfoy," she growled.  
  
"What about an apology?" he asked.  
  
Hermione blinked, "A what?"  
  
"An apology. Surely you've heard of them."  
  
"You want to apologize, do you?"  
  
He dropped his eyes to the floor, and rocked forward. He was rubbing the fabric of his sweater sleeve nervously between his fingers. "Well, yes…"  
  
She was watching him closely now. His tall silhouette against the window, hunching down. Suddenly not looking so intimidating. His white fell over her face a bit longer than it had been a month ago. It cast a shadow over his angular cheeks and she noticed that he was looking a bit scruffy, like he hadn't shaved in a day or two. It wasn't like him to be less than immaculately groomed.   
  
His chest was rising and falling quickly, as if he were taking short breaths. The way he was rubbing his sleeve with his thumb and forefinger, he was going to put a hole in it. His feet were tapping silently, almost not noticeable. He took a big breath that made him shudder slightly and said, "Grang- Hermione, I'm sorry about what I did. I just…I have no good excuse for it. I was a stupid bet and I took it because I thought…I don't know. I don't know what I thought. But I'm sorry."  
  
His silver eyes flicked up, looking almost transparent. She could see that that had taken every ounce of his pride to do. He was still hardly breathing, and he was staring at her expectantly.   
  
She tossed her hair back and parted her lips, tasting the words that were about to come.  
  
"Fuck. You." she said, "Fuck you. If you think you can come back here with some lame apology and just expect me to forgive you on the spot for the humiliation you put me through, I'm sorry to inform you that you are horribly wrong. That may work on all your other little girls, but not me. You're fucking 'charms' have no effect on me. I can see right through you. You aren't sorry, Malfoy. I don't know what you expect to get from me by playing the nice guy, but you wont get anything."  
  
"Herm-"   
  
"No. Shut up. I have nothing I want to hear from you right now," she spat. She was practically steaming. She backed to the counter and yanked open a drawer, "Look, it's unfortunate that we have to work together. But if that's how the fates want it to be, we're at least going to do this on my terms. You will not touch me again, Malfoy. You wont look at me, or talk to me. Nothing. You don't deserve any of those things."  
  
She rummaged through the drawer and yanked out a jingling set of keys, and flung them at his face. Unfortunately, he caught them.   
  
"Here. Lock up at eleven. I'm going home," she said, and with that, she spun on her heel and marched right out the door, into the cool summer night.  
  
*~*~*  
  
What do you want from me, Malfoy? Hermione wondered up at her ceiling.   
  
She was laying flat across her bed still half dressed in top and a pair of panties. It was well past midnight and the hour was steadily moving towards morning. She couldn't sleep.   
  
Her lights were out but her room was still lit with light from the full moon that sat outside her glass terrace doors. She lived with her parents in a large, second story apartment in the city. Her room was large and her bed was a queen size. Her mother had decorated her room when they moved two years ago. It wasn't really her style but she'd gotten used to all the candles and the slippery satin sheets.  
  
She blinked and pictured him standing in front of that window, looking terrified as he stuttered that he was sorry. She'd accused him of not meaning it, but she wasn't really sure now. He'd seemed quite sincere. But then again, it was Malfoy. How could he ever be sincere about anything. He was an evil, appalling little rat. He just used people. And he wanted to use her, that must be it.  
  
What else would he want?  
  
A quote suddenly popped into her head from a book she'd read from her father's personal library. The Grapes of Wraith, a Muggle classic.  
  
"There ain't no virtue, and there ain't no sin. There's just stuff people do."  
  
Malfoy was just a person after all. It was giving him too much credit to peg him as an evil monster. He wasn't that directed. Hermione supposed that on an off day he might actually have some heart in him. Maybe he really was sorry. Maybe he did have a conscious, if minuscule.  
  
Any maybe he wasn't exactly the person he seemed to be.  
  
If that was the case, Hermione could certainly relate. Sometimes she was jealous of herself. Not the person that she was, but the person she seemed to be. The self confident, goal oriented perfectionist. Friend to everyone. She was the peacemaker, and the psychologist. She solved problems, and didn't seem to have any of her own.  
  
That's what people thought anyway, but she wasn't really like that at all. Secretly, she wished her breasts were bigger, and she wished she had more sex. She sometimes claimed to be doing homework, but was secretly reading trashy romance instead. And sometimes (and she could barely admit this to herself) she didn't really CARE about everyone's problems and she wished the whole school would a get a clue and realized she had bigger things to deal with than their lasted break up.  
  
She rolled over onto her stomach and shoved her face in the pillow. She DID have big problems now. She had Malfoy. And even if he was, by some off chance, secretly a saint, it didn't make him less of a bother. He still did what he did, and no amount of regret changed it. Whatever his motivation, it made no difference. He still did it, and that made him a bastard in her book.  
  
And now she had to spend her summer with him. She had to see his face everyday, bright and early and into the night. For the next two months.  
  
And the crazy thing was, for some reason the thought made her stomach flutter. And not just with disgust.  
  
*~*~*  
  
" 'Mione, baby, time to get up. You're going to be late for work, hun!"  
  
Hermione grunted and rolled over, tangling her feet in those stupid, shiny, slippery sheets. She kicked at them, trying to free herself.  
  
"Hermione, why aren't you answering me!" her mothers voice persisted.  
  
"No," Hermione answered shortly, twisting herself up worse trying to pull her cover over her head.  
  
Her mother laughed, "No what, hunny?"  
  
"No everything. I'm not waking up."  
  
She kicked her feet and refused to open her eyes. Damn it, she was tangling herself up worse and she was starting to wake up. She didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to face reality right now. She was just going to go back to bed and sleep it away.  
  
"Hermione, you've got to get up or you'll be late…"  
  
Hermione flung her arms out, searching for a pillow. She willed her mother to stop talking and just go away. Just go away and stop waking her up.  
  
"Hermione, get up NOW!"  
  
There was pounding on the door.   
  
Hermione slid to the side, arms out. Where was that damn pillow?  
  
"Hermione, your father and I have to go to work, I want you up NOW!"  
  
Bang, Bang, Bang, on the door.  
  
No, no, no. She would NOT wake up. She was going to sleep. She was going to sleep all day long, and never come out of her bed. Ever.   
  
Even the bed seemed to be agreeing. It tangled her worse and worse, wrapping up her legs and ankles and thighs, holding her down like a rapist.   
  
"HERMIONE! I'm not kidding! Get up NOW! You're going to get fired!"  
  
Ha! That'd be a blessing. But that would never happen because God hated her now.  
  
"God, what did I do? Was it the day I skipped service to go sneak into that R rated movie?" Hermione mumbled.  
  
"WHAT did you just say, Hermione?" her mother asked.  
  
Pillow! Where was the pillow! No more sound. Just sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleepy-sleep. Til the world came to an end.  
  
She finally found the pillow but as she slithered her body over to it, she realized she'd reached the end of her bed only seconds to late and she went plummeting two feet into the hardwood floor.  
  
Her spine came in contact with a thump and he head followed closely. He feet remained on the bed, being strangled by the evil satin sheets.  
  
The muffled crack of her head on the floor brought her into full consciousness. She swore at her bed, which she had thought was on her side. Bed's could be so fickle.  
  
"Hermione, my God, what just happened? Are you ok in there? Open this door now!"  
  
"I'm fine," she said blandly. But she was not fine. She was awake.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Hermione pouted her lips into the mirror sadly one last time and checked the clock. Ten 'til ten. She had absolutely not a second longer to spend dawdling. She had to go to work NOW.  
  
Her body was trembling pathetically. Her heart was flying around her chest and he brain was tripping over itself, trying to sort her out. Trying to make plans. Could she just ignore him? Avoid him?  
  
Yeah right. The store was so tiny, and her female hormones alone wouldn't let her take her eyes off of the bloody brat.  
  
She sighed exasperatedly and made her way to the front door, chewing her lip and thinking. Before her hand could touch the doorknob, it rattled and there was a knock.  
  
Who was here?  
  
Before she thought better of it, she grabbed the knob and yanked the door open to find herself face to face with the problem himself, in the flesh.  
  
"Malfoy!" she cried, "What on earth are you doing at my house?"  
  
"You didn't think you were getting off that easily, did you?" he said with that wicked grin that never seemed to leave his face when he was looking at her. 


	4. Faith

Author's Note: I meant to write this only through Hermione's perspective, but I discovered that she was running out of things to say. Draco, on the other hand, wouldn't shut his mouth for two seconds so I decided to listen, and let him write a chapter. So from now on, I'll probably do both characters POV's. I hope you enjoy this one. I love the reviews so far. Thanks bunches, kids!  
  
  
  
Hermione Granger was one hot little number.  
  
He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before.  
  
Well, scratch that. He HAD noticed that night in the library. And it wasn't just her looks. It was something about her. The way she stood with a cocky arrogance, the way she was standing in the doorway now, staring at him with sleepy eyes. Maybe she reminded him of himself. He didn't really know. What he did know was that behind that 'hard-worker, good toe shoes' façade there was a real sex pot.   
  
And he was going to bring that Hermione out of her virgin shell.  
  
"Draco, leave," she growled. Oh, damn it, he loved it when she talked to him like that. PUNISH ME, Hermione!  
  
He was suddenly picturing her dressed in all leather, holding a whip over him and chaining him to a bed. It took her nearly slamming his fingers in the door to snap him out of it.  
  
He jumped back.   
  
"Hermione…wait…" he said , straining against the door to keep it open. "I came all the way here, you could at least talk to me!"  
  
"I told you everything I had to say," she grunted, leaning all her weight on the door. But her feet where starting to slid across the floor. He was making headway! He thought for a moment that he shouldn't be forcing his way into a girls house. It wasn't really a Malfoy thing to do. But then, he hadn't really been Malfoy since that night. Hermione did something to him. Something horrible. He couldn't pin point what, but he wasn't the same. Like last night, apologizing like he were somebody's bitch. What the hell had gotten into him?  
  
Well, he knew one thing. He was going to get her back for it.  
  
He slammed his entire weight into the door, which sent Hermione sprawling out on the wood floor of her apartment. Draco scrambled in and shut the door, leaning back against it and looking down. Hermione had landed gracelessly with her legs parted, revealing white panties under her short skirt.  
  
She must have noticed him staring because she slapped her knees together quickly and shot him an evil look that looked nothing short of orgasmic sexy.  
  
"This is breaking and entering, you bloody idiot," she sputtered indignantly as she folded her legs under her.  
  
Draco moved forward and offered his hand down to help her up. When she didn't take it, he just grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward.  
  
She tripped into him and he caught her in his arms before she fell. For a moment, she was flustered enough to allow him to hold her. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest, perfectly matched to his own racing pulse. He took a moment to smell her, enjoying her sweet, virginal scent. He couldn't wait until that smell was lingering on his pillows.  
  
Then, she kneed him in the groin, completely ruining the moment and sending him on a fast train from fantasy land to a world of pain. He stumbled back onto the couch and crumpled up into a ball.  
  
"I told you not to touch me," she said haughtily.  
  
"I was trying to save you from falling," he moaned, "Oh GOD!"  
  
She scowled down at him disapprovingly, "Oh, come on, it doesn't hurt that bad! Get up you baby."  
  
"It does hurt that bad. Good God, 'Mione, you haven't got a clue!"  
  
"Sure I have. I get cramps once a month and they last for days. Stand up and shake it off."  
  
"I can't shake it off, woman. Unless you want me to take it out right here," he teased through the blinding jolts of pain that were shooting up from his groin. He scrunched his face up and let out a long winded groan.  
  
"No, thank you. I don't want to be disappointed," she answered quickly.  
  
He sat up partially and smiled, "Oh you wouldn't be…"  
  
He was answered with a heavy pillow to his face. He grabbed it and flung it back, missing Hermione buy a mile. She laughed and smiled at him, which somehow instantly dulled his pain.  
  
He struggled up into a sitting position slowly and pushed back his mop of hair. It really needed a good trimming right about now. Come to think of it, he could use a shave as well. He'd meant to last night, but he'd ended up falling asleep in the bowl of pudding he'd cooked up at four a.m. Cooking always had a way of calming his nerves. But it wasn't always a convenient way of venting.  
  
He'd spent half the morning picking bits of hardened pudding from his hair. And the other half looking for Hermione's house. Which brought him to why he was here.  
  
Oh, yeah. That's right. He still don't know.  
  
When he looked up, she was staring down at him expectantly. Her heard he tapping her foot but he couldn't tale his eyes off of her face.  
  
"Well, I came here to walk you to walk you to work," he decided out loud. "So come on, lets go."  
  
"You came all the way here to walk me to work? That's kind of pointless Malfoy," she responded.  
  
"We're going to be seeing a lot of each other. I thought maybe we could try and get on good terms again," he offered.  
  
"We never were on good terms," she grumbled, but she got up and went to the door. She looked back at him, "Well, come on. Get up, or we'll be late."  
  
Hermione wasn't smiling but Draco sure was.  
  
*~*~*  
  
The walk to work was quieter than Draco would have liked but it was more than he should have asked for anyways, to be in her presence. He had to admit that he understood her not wanting to hang out with him. But she had to admit that if they were going to be forced to see each other, they might as well at least try to get along. Or fake it.  
  
He spent the whole morning stocking books. He unloaded an entire box of George Michaels biographies. He couldn't figure out why on earth they would have order all of those, but then, this was an odd store. They had an entire section of a humorous collection of Muggle 'Magic' books. As if they had a clue…  
  
Hermione ignored him most of the day, going on break often. But he did catch her eye a few times and by late after noon she wasn't scowling every time it happened. He was making progress.  
  
He took abreak late afternoon when the heat started to be too much for him. He was exhausted. Those George Michaels books had not been too tiny. He collapsed at the tiny table and put his head down.  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
Hermione was sorting books in the corner. Every once and a while she tossed a look of annoyance over her shoulder when she spotted him looking at her. He wished he could take his eyes off of her, but he couldn't. His hormones wouldn't allow him to tear his eyes from that tiny, tiny shirt that was constantly riding up and offering a peek at her perfect little tan ass.  
  
Finally, he'd had enough of her scowling at him. He waited until she was turned around, and slowly approached her from behind. He moved his fingers under the edge of her skirt slowly so she wouldn't notice.  
  
Her opened his mouth, and before he could stop himself, he said "Well I guess it would nice, if I could touch you're body…" he slipped his fingers up her skirt and she spun around. He grinned, "I know not everybody, has got a body like you."  
  
Hermione shot him a look and then pressed her hand to his chest, and said "But I've got to think twice, before I give my heart away. And I know all the games you play, because I play them too…"  
  
She slowly came closer, backing him against the wall. She looked up to the sky and continued, "Oh but I need some time off from that emotion. Time to pick my heart up off the floor!"  
  
He shook his head and grabbed her hand, "And when that love comes down, without devotion…Well it takes a strong man baby …but I'm showing you the door…"  
  
Suddenly the room was filled with music. Hermione grabbed his other hand and the both danced across the floor.  
  
"Because I gotta have faith!" he sang to her.  
  
"Because you gotta have faith?" she sang back?  
  
"Because I gotta have faith, fa-faith, fa-faith!" he sang happily. Suddenly he just wanted to dance with Hrmione forever, but as soon as the thought jumped into his head, she backed away, and stood shyly a few feet away.  
  
"Baby, I know you're asking me to stay. Say please, please, please, don't go away…" she sang, looking at him with those big, heavy lidded eyes. He cut her off, slithering up to her while he sang, "You say I'm giving you the blues," he paused, "Maybe… you mean every word you say…"  
  
She nodded, "Can't help but think of yesterday, And another who tied me down to loverboy rules…"  
  
He shook his head and dove at her, scooping her up in his arms, "Before this river becomes an ocean," he sang throatily, setting her down and kneeling before her, "Before you throw my heart back on the floor."  
  
He fluttered his eyes at her, hoping he looked appealing.  
  
She squeezed his hands and beamed down at him, " Oh baby I reconsider, my foolish notion.  
Well I need someone to hold me…"  
  
She stopped as he got up and grab her hands from behind, crossing them in front. They stepped to opposite sides and looked at each other dramatically.  
  
"But I'll wait for something more…" she sang.  
  
"Because I gotta have faith!" they ended together.  
  
Oooo, I gotta have faaaiiith. I gotta have faith, fa-faith, fa-faith….  
  
I gotta have faiiiiiith!  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Draco, dear, you're mumbling in your sleep," a voice said. Malfoy jerked his head up from the table.  
  
"I what?"  
  
Jesse grinned, "You were singing a George Michaels song in your sleep. It was rather odd."  
  
Malfoy blushed bright red, remembering his dream and looked up at the clock.  
  
"Oh look, my break is over. Better get back on the floor…"  
  
"Ok, buddy," Jesse said with a wink.  
  
Damn it. What a weird dream. 


	5. Settling The Score

Author's Note: As I'm writing this, it 9 00 at night and its freaking hot. So I hope y'all appreciate the effort, LOL. Thanks once again for the reviews. I couldn't live without them. I eat reviews for breakfast and they are mmm, yummy yummy. See, the heat is getting to me. Oh, everyone who's reading, Download the song 'Fell In Love With A Girl' by 'The White Stripes'. I'm listening to it now and it's the best punk song I've ever heard in my life. Anyway, on with it…  
  
  
  
  
Finally, it was eleven. Closing time.  
  
Hermione ran into the back and grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder and swaggered back out front. She tossed her head over her shoulder to Malfoy and said, "I'm leaving. Lock up."  
  
With that, she walked right out the door, meanwhile Malfoy was yelling something after her. She didn't care. She was going home and getting away from that nut. He'd been staring at her all day like her wanted to suck on every inch of her skin until she was a giant purple hickey, and it was unnerving her. Part of her liked that idea, but every time she tried to indulge in that thought her left brain kept interrupting and saying 'NO, NO, NO! BAD HERMIONE!"  
  
It was best that she just get AWAY from him as fast as possible. She'd beat the naughty thoughts out of herself when she got home.  
  
But ten seconds later he was tripping out of the store, keys jingling, and racing up after her. She kept her face forward and continued walking, hoping that if she ignored him, he'd go away. But then, that hadn't worked yet, had it?  
  
"Hermione," he huffed as he caught up with her. He panted and pushed his hair back, "Hermione. I…You. I'm hungry."  
  
She stopped to look at him, one eyebrow raised, "Well that's interesting, Malfoy. Did you run all that way to tell me that?"  
  
"No," he said, shaking his head, "I meant to ask if you were hungry. Are you hungry?"  
  
"No."  
  
He frowned angrily at her, "Yes you are."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
He cleared his throat, still looking surly. "Well, do you want to come to my apartment and eat something?"  
  
"No, I don't."  
  
She spun around, flipping her hair out and sending it fanning down her back. She took one step forward, but Malfoy laid his hand on her shoulder heavily and pulled her back. She tried to get away, but his reflexes were too quick and he grabbed her again.  
  
"Please?" he asked. He was purposely making eyes at her. Puppy dog eyes. Fuck. Since when did Malfoy make puppy eyes at anyone? He wasn't acting normal.   
  
She batted his hands away, accidentally touching him and sending a tingle up her arm to her head where a drugged feeling settled over her.  
  
"Malfoy, can't you just let this be?"  
  
"No."  
  
She sighed. She was stuck. Malfoy wasn't going to let her be. And she had to admit she was falling for his pathetic act. She didn't like being on the losing side. Not to him. He'd already beaten her down once. He'd made her have to rethink herself. He made her feel like she was just some stupid little girl. Just another girl falling for the evil blonde boy.  
  
She knew she wasn't. She wanted to show him that. Show him that she wasn't just some girl-toy to be played with. She wanted to show him that Hermione was a force to be reckoned with.  
  
That was it!  
  
She'd do just that. In a split second, she had her entire plan worked out. She almost giggled out loud, but she controlled herself. Instead, she smiled shyly at him and nodded slowly.  
  
"Ok," she said quietly.  
  
"What?" he said, looking astonished.  
  
"I…I said ok. I'll come."  
  
He blinked once and she panicked for a second. But then a wide smile broke out on his pretty little face, and she knew she had him.  
  
Yes. Hermione Granger was going to get her revenge on Draco Malfoy.  
  
*~*~*  
  
When they entered Draco's flat ten minutes later, Hermione was giggling herself dizzy. She really thought she was over doing her act, but Malfoy was eating it right up. He kept flashing her dazzled smiles and and talking to her eagerly. She almost felt bad about what she was going to do. But every time she considered backing out, she just conjured up an image of all the Slytherine boys laughing at her in the library, and she was back in business.  
  
She'd never really planned to do this before. Sure, she'd had revenge fantasies before, but never like this. The fact was, Malfoy had thrown her an unanticipated curve by being interested in her.  
  
But oh well, it just made for sweeter vengeance.  
  
Malfoy lead her to the kitchen and set her at the counter. He then revealed that he was going to cook for her. Another little surprise. Malfoy could cook.  
  
She watched him for a while, admiring the way his back moved as he sautéed up vegetables and chicken and blended drinks. She kept looking back at her and smiling, as if he were making sure she was still there. Everytime he did, she batted her lashes at him and let out another sicken giggle. Could he really be falling for this? He was denser than she'd imaged.  
  
She watched as beads of sweat began to rise up on his forehead. When he pushed back his hair, it started to slick back slightly like it did when he was young. She realized she herself was getting hot, but not from the steam coming from the simmering pasta. Once she let herself go, she found herself being horribly physically attracted to Draco. He was tall, so tall. Much bigger than her. His arms were long and could probably wrap all the way around her and hold her tight. His skin was pale. She'd like to see red scratches across that white skin from her nails. He had a nice little ass too. She liked the way it moved in those tight pants. Most boys were afraid to wear tight pants, but not Malfoy. And thank god for that.  
  
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She had to put the plan into action NOW. She got up silently and crept up beside him. She reached into one pan and dipped her finger into the sauce he was making. She brought it to her lips and licked it off, then sucked on her finger.  
  
"Mmm, this is good, Malfoy," she moaned, closing her eyes. "You ARE a good chef."  
  
When she opened her eyes, he was gaping at her.  
  
She bit her lip bashfully, and tilted her head down, looking up at his through her lashes. She moved her head up and took a gliding step towards him. She felt Malfoy's breath escape slowly. She looked down again, then up into his silver eyes. They looked clear and pale. He was watching her fixedly.   
  
She took a deep breath. Well, her goes nothing, she thought. Cue faze one.  
  
She moved upwards as she let her breath out and let her eyes flutter shut. Her lips brushed in one scorching movement and before she had time to plan faze two, he had pressed his lips softly to hers. He seemed unsure this time. Not like before. This time he was slow. He slide her lips all over hers before pressing into her lower lip. Her kissed it, then kissed her top lip, then her nose. She opened her eyes and found him watching her. He locked gazes with her as his hand slide up her back and he kissed her mouth again, tenderly.  
  
His tongue slide between her lips and into her mouth. He stroked her tongue with his, meanwhile matching his caresses to the ones he was making down her back. They slowly turned, as if slow dancing, moving away from the stove. Hermione felt like she was falling. Falling away from herself. Her plan was quickly slipping out of her mind as Draco continued to kiss her to a point of combustion. He was so damn slow, like her were trying to kiss her perfectly. Like he didn't want to make a mistake.  
  
The PLAN, YOU IDIOT! Her left brain yelled. Right, right. The plan. Better speed things along.  
  
She pulled away and whispered, "Draco, where is your bedroom?"  
  
"My what?"  
  
"Bedroom."  
  
He looked confused for a moment, then it seemed to hit him. "Oh! Oh, yeah. This way."  
  
He grabbed her hand and lead her down the hall. His bedroom looked like how she would have pictured Draco's bedroom to look. His bed was a king size with iron bedposts stabbing up towards the ceiling. The comforter was a dark gold and black design and the sheets were satin, like hers. But black satin, instead of white.  
  
The room was lit dimly by a few candles clustered on the table next to his bed. A huge window faced the street and the other wall was covered by a large artwork. There was a tall backed, red velvet chair in one corner that looked interesting. Very interesting.   
  
She lead him to the chair and pushed him down into it. She stood before him, suddenly nervous. But this was the plan, and she was sticking to it. She slowly began to lift her shirt. Malfoy's eyes became cloudy. She pulled it over her head, letting her hair fall around her softly. She dropped the shirt to the floor and reached behind her to undo her skirt. She let it drop into a puddle at her feet, and watched Malfoy's face again. He wore no expression. He was completely blank.  
  
She took a breath, then unclasped her bra. His lips parted, but that was all. He didn't rush at her, grab her, grope her. He just watched. Just looked at her. Just breathed.  
  
Then she dropped her panties. She was standing completely naked in front of him. Finally, a grin twitched onto his lips.  
  
"Hermione," she mumbled as he rose out of the chair to grab her. His arms twinned around her and his lips went to her neck. She felt like she was his prey, the way he was biting her neck and sucking it, holding her motionless. She reached her hands in front of her and unzipped his pants. The noise of the zipper falling seemed distant. Far way. Instead, she could hear the beating of their hearts, like music. Bam, Bam, Bam. They were making a rhythm. Like fucking.  
  
His pants slide down with her hands. She skimmed them over his bare ass and then cupped it and squeezed. He breathed on her neck. She moved her hands up and tore off his shirt. Then she leaned against him, pushing him down onto the chair. She leaned over him, watching him watch her as she pushed his legs apart.  
  
He looked great draped over that chair. White satin on red velvet. Delicious.   
  
She wanted to taste him. She told herself it was part of the plan, to enjoy herself. She was going to have fun with this.  
  
She grabbed his cock and it seemed to dwarf her hand. She looked at it skeptically for a moment. Was she going to be able to fit that whole thing in her mouth? Well, what the hell. She'd do the best she could.  
  
It turned out to be easier than she'd imagined. Once she got a taste of his salty skin she wanted to devour him. And she did. She sucked his cock like it were a lollypop. She licked it and tasted it all over. It was pure heaven. She watched with fascination as it grew longer and harder. Her excitement was growing. That would certainly scratch her itch, so to speak.  
  
She drew his dick out of her lips slowly, and licked them. She stood up straight and flipped her hair back. Malfoy's hands were quickly on her breasts, squeezing. While he was playing, she worked on arranging herself over him. While he was still staring keenly at her knockers, she lowered herself over his hot sex.  
  
He gasped and threw back his head. His eyes rolled back, the whites glittering. He pressed his head into chair, with little strands of white hair curling out on the velvet. Hermione felt herself split in half.   
  
"God," she screamed hoarsely.  
  
Draco made a rumbling sound deep in his throat, like a storm. His hands were in the air, long fingers spread out. Hermione quickly intertwined her fingers with his as she pulled herself up. She tightened around him as she pulled away, then she plunged down. She squeezed her thighs tighter as she pulled up a second time. She did it slowly, choking his cock. She loved the sound he was making. She wanted to hear that sound all night, and for the rest of her life.  
  
Growl, Malfoy! She commanded mentally, and he did. His eyes were squeezed shut as if he were in pain. She kissed them as she started to ride him faster. This was a good position, she realized. She could rub herself exactly the way she wanted. It was like masturbation, but better. She liked being on top.  
  
"Faster," he panted. His face was turning red.  
  
"No," she answered simply.  
  
"Please?" His eyes were open now. He was begging. She continued her leisurely pace and shook her head. He dropped his head back and screamed low and rough. He grabbed her hips and tried to move her faster but she resisted. She was going to do this on her terms. She remember this from the orgasm book. If she took it slow, and kept squeezing, she could make him hold out on coming until she was ready.  
  
She moved up and down, stretching above him, making sure her breasts were in full view. He'd given up of trying to move her faster and was now stroking the lips of her vagina with his finger tips, downing tingles up her spin. That's the way Malfoy, she thought. Make me come faster and I'll let you come faster.  
  
So a plan she'd come up with in about ten seconds, this sure was a good one.  
  
She started to push down harder on him, trying to get as much of him in her as possible. She liked the idea of having Draco inside her body. It was a little like having a conversation with God. And it made her feel powerful.  
  
And God, who'd have thought she'd get off on power. But it made sense. This was part of her revenge. She could make Draco do whatever she wanted. Right now.  
  
That gave her another idea. She suddenly moved down his shaft and then stopped. His eyes flew open.  
  
"What are you doing," he demanded gruffly.  
  
She fake yawned, "I'm tired."  
  
"WHAT?! Are you insane. You…you can't just stop!"  
  
"Sure I can," she explained calmly.  
  
"But we're at the point of no return!" he yelled.  
  
She smiled and touched her finger to his nose, "No, my dear. YOU are at the point of no return. Females don't have one."  
  
And with that she stood up. Draco exploded, "What are you doing? No! What do you want from me?"  
  
Her answered came in one word, "Beg."  
  
His mouth dropped. He looked in pain. She could bet he was in pain.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I said beg for it. Tell me how much you want me right now."  
  
He looked torn between killing her and throwing himself at her feet. He apparently decided on the later and rushed at her.   
  
"Hermione, please. Please finish. Don't leave me like this. I want you right now. I've wanted you since the day I walked into that book store and saw you standing there at the counter. And it's not what you think. It's not just your looks, although you friggin sex on a stick. But you do something to me, Hermione. You make me do things I wouldn't do. Like this. Like begging you. Please, Hermione."  
  
She was in shock. Was that him or his dick speaking? She didn't know, but she nodded anyway, and before she had time to contemplate he'd shoved her into the wall and rammed into her. In and out, in and out. Bang, Bang, Bang. She was hitting her head on the wall but she didn't care. He was hurting her but she didn't care. Whatever she'd said about girls not having a point of no return must have been a lie. Because she was going to come. She was going to come now!  
  
And she did. She felt soaked, and broken. She was shuddering all over, and so was he. He grabbed her, as if holding on for dear life and bit into her shoulder. They came together. In one glorious moment Hermione-the-prudish-bookworm and Draco-the-sex-god came together. The world exploded.  
  
And then they were done, laying crumpled in the floor panting a sweating. Draco still clung to her. She liked the feel of his legs tangled with hers. It was comforting. It made her feel special. It made her feel like she finally had someone in the world.  
  
SWEET BEARDED JESUS! What was she thinking? This was MALFOY. She wasn not going to have these feelings for Malfoy. And that was not sex, that was part of the plan. Just part of the plan. And now it was time for the final faze.  
  
Before she could get up, he leaned in and whispered into her ear, "It didn't hurt too much did it?"  
  
"What?" she asked, confused.  
  
"You're a…you know. Did it hurt?" he asked again. She sat up and brushed her hair out of her face.  
  
"Draco, do you think I'm a virgin?" she asked.  
  
"Aren't you?"  
  
She laughed. "NO! Of course not!"  
  
He sat up, eyes wide. He looked like she'd just told him she was really a man or something. That made her laugh harder.  
  
"Draco, I am NOT a virgin. You aren't that special. Do you actually think I'd come here and just hand you the V-card? Jesus, Malfoy. Don't be fucking naïve."  
  
His mouth hung open. He didn't say anything. She could feel the room drop. Get silent. This was it. This was her revenge. She was going to shoot him through the heart, assuming he had one.  
  
She stood up and pulled on her skirt, then clasped on her bra. "Well, thanks for a good time, Malfoy. You're a half decent fuck, you know that? Better than what I've heard anyway."  
  
She pulled on her top, "But you may want to work on your patience. You wouldn't want to go embarrassing yourself and coming before you're supposed to, you know?" she tossed casually. She reached down and yanked up her panties.  
  
"Well, see ya," she said with a wave.  
  
He was just staring at her, when his mouth opened. "Where are you going?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Uh, home? I gotta get out of here before someone sees me. Oh, and by the way, that was really touching, the stuff you said about me. You're right, you haven't been acting like yourself. Malfoy? Begging for sex from a Mudblood? Now that's something I'll bet the school wont be able to WAIT to hear about."  
  
Then she left. She walked down the hall and he didn't try to stop her. She figured he was still sitting naked on his floor in the half catatonic state she'd left him in. Well, good, her left brain said. You sure showed him!  
  
But had she? Had she gotten fair and deserved revenge? Or had she just sunk to his level?  
  
Outside, it was raining. She walked home cold, wet and confused. If that was what she'd been dreaming to do the past month, then why didn't it feel good? 


	6. The Narcissistic and the Perfectionist

Authors Note: Thanks again for the reviews. I can't say it again. I really respect the authors that respond to each one. I've tried that and I don't have the patience for it. So, I'm sorry about that, but I really do appreciate them.   
  
And a BIG thanks to my new and much needed beta reader, Laureate! I am eternally grateful.  
  
WARNING: Due to ff.net being closed down so long, this is a loooong chapter. I actually put two chapters together for this one. So I'm sorry if this is too much reading for you kids. I probably wont ever make any others this long.  
  
Oh, right, and I've got a *new* online journal with a better format than the old one. It's at www.deadjournal.com/~kittenxmmx, if anyone is interested, and I hope you are. There isn't much there yet, but I promise to write all freaking summer. If you read it, leave me some freaking comments, alright? Love y'all. ~Marilyn  
  
  
"Dear momma's boy I know you've had your butt licked by your mother  
I know you've enjoyed all that attention from her  
And every woman graced with your presence after  
Dear narcissus boy I know you've never really apologized for anything  
I know you've never really taken responsibility  
I know you've never really listened to a woman…"  
  
  
-Alanis Morissette, 'Narcissus'  
  
  
Draco turned away from the window as Hermione walked off, pulling her coat close around her against the wind. Part of him wished she'd freeze to death, and part wanted to rush out and hold her in his arms and warm her. But she'd just fight him. She didn't want him. She'd never wanted him. He had to face the fact that he'd fucked up and he wasn't getting back what he lost.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hand over his face roughly, feeling his prickled facial hair and sweat. He swallowed hard, as if trying to force down the truth. He'd been fooling himself, thinking he had a fucking chance. He'd been fooling himself by thinking he could win her back with charm or looks or whatever the hell he had. He should have known it wouldn't work. This was Hermione.  
  
He slammed his fist down on his dresser, scattering the few items that were collected there. His eyes trailed from his fist up to his reflection in the gold framed mirror hung over it. He stared right into his own red rimmed eyes. His blood vestals branched out like tiny , scarlet rivers around his white irises. He looked a mess. His skin was sickly white all of a sudden and his hair was matted and spiked out in odd directions. His skinny chest was rising and falling slowly and methodically. He was control his breath, trying to remain calm when inside he was experiencing a personal fall of an empire. His own empire. Himself. He was lost.  
  
When Hermione walked out on him, she'd taken his pride with her, and that was all he had left. His father was gone, and so was his future. The money that would have been his. The respect of all the dark wizards.   
  
His eyes went to his arm, and if possible, he went paler. He felt slightly ill as he ran his fingers over the raised slashes of skin, the shinny scars and burns. It didn't hurt anymore. It hadn't hurt when he'd done it, because he'd been numb. All the way to London, holding his arm tightly on the train, he'd been blank. He just stared right ahead and move like a robot. He didn't speak to anyone. He still wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to get himself together and rent this flat. He supposed he'd been in some kind of survivor mode.  
  
He just ate and slept. More the later than former. When he ran out of food, he just laid on the floor and stared at the ceiling. He'd done that for maybe two days before he'd gotten the call. Brief and formal. His father voice sounded distant. Just "I got you a job, so get your pathetic ass up and go." That's all he said.  
  
Well, a job meant money, and money meant food. And as appealing as the idea of starving to death was, it just seemed to be taking too long. So he got up, dressed up and went. He walked in a daze. He felt weird, like he wasn't quite participating in his own life anymore. Like he was just watching himself. Or a shell of himself anyway.  
  
Then he'd walked into the store. Just a regular store. But she was there. He hadn't thought about her since that day. But suddenly, seeing her, he felt something. Suddenly, he felt like he'd been thrown back into his body. Like someone had breathed the life force back into him. He was full of passion and lust. He wanted her. From the moment he saw he standing there, like a fucking angel, only she was dressed like a prostitute.   
  
He'd touched her only because he couldn't help himself. He had to feel her to make sure she was real. He could feel his pulse throbbing. He could almost taste his own blood moving through his frozen veins again. He was alive. He had a chance. Or something like that.   
  
And for a few day, he'd been Malfoy again. Still weak, but himself at least. But now look at him. A fucking disarray of fractured emotions. He was fucking pathetic.  
  
He was nothing now. Now that she was gone.  
  
And he hated her. God damn, he hated her. She should have known. She should have known that something was wring, sensed it. She shouldn't have messed with him like this.  
  
He sank to the floor, spreading himself out, feeling numb. Hermione Granger. He hated that bitch.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Um, Jesse? Where's Malfoy?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Not here."  
  
"Well I know that," Hermione said, moving to the back. She looked at the clock. "He's forty-five minutes late."  
  
"He's not doming in," Jesse said briefly.  
  
"Huh? Why not?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling rather sick.  
  
Jesse shrugged. "Not feeling well I guess. Hey, Hermione, what are you doing tonight?"  
  
"Nothing. Is he sick?"  
  
"No, I don't think so. But listen, I'm having a party at my place. Think you'd be aloud to come? They'll probably be drinking but it's not like you haven't seen a drunk person before, right? You can drink if you want, I'm cool with it."  
  
Jesse looked to Hermione expectantly, but Hermione was off somewhere else. Her eyes looked blank.  
  
"Hermione! Did you here me?"  
  
"Oh, er…"  
  
"I'm having a PARTY tonight. Are you going to come?"  
  
"Oh, sure," she answered, still not quite paying attention.  
  
Jesse smiled, "Oh good! There's going to be some good looking boys there. And I want to introduce you to my cousin Vinny. He's great, you'll love him. Here, let me write down the address for you. It starts at eleven."  
  
Hermione nodded and waited for Jesse to scribbled out direction on the back of a receipt. She took it and jammed in into her back pocket, then smiled habitually and went back to work.  
  
Malfoy wasn't coming, and he wasn't sick? What could be up with that boy?   
  
*~*~*   
  
Jesse closed up the store early at five to go set up for her big party. Hermione left but didn't make it home for another two hours. Instead, she wandered around, thinking. Maybe Malfoy had stayed home because of her. Maybe she'd…hurt him or something. No, no way. It wasn't possible. Malfoy's heart was made of stone.  
  
But she couldn't erase the guilty feeling that was plaguing her. What she'd done was wrong, even if she had done it to Malfoy. Even if he had deserved it.  
  
No, no. She wouldn't let herself think that. She had every right to do whatever she wanted to him. He hadn't cared about her feelings, why should she care about his? He used her for his own amusement, why shouldn't she use him? It was fair. And fair was fair, and that was it. They were even now. It was over.   
  
All over.  
  
And yet, she still felt she had unfinished business. She bit her lip and decided to head home. She needed to stop thinking. She need to do something else. Get her mind off things. But what could she do?  
  
He fingers went to her jeans pocket. She pulled out the crinkled up, shinny scrap of paper. 112 Berkley Street, third brick building. Jesse's party. Well, that was perfect, wasn't it? She'd go there and by the end of the night she wouldn't even remember Malfoy's name.  
  
*~*~*   
  
Hermione scanned her reflection critically. She looked like a slut.  
  
For one, her skirt was so short that every step she took flashed a peek at her ass. She couldn't even consider sitting down in this, let alone bending down. Then there was her shirt. See through animal print covered in lace. Her breasts were popping up to say a little hello. They looked larger than normal, which she had to admit she was a big fascinated with. They looked impressive in this shirt. In fact, the whole outfit was striking. She'd never really dressed like this before. She liked it. It was like pretending to be someone else. And that's exactly what she wanted to do tonight.  
  
She'd straightened her hair and pulled it up into a sort of messy updo. Not too over done. She sat on her bed and pulled on a pair of lace up vinyl boots. She stood, feeling taller. She liked the feeling of the slick surface hugging her legs. It was sexy.  
  
She went to her closet and pulled out a long, fur lined jacket and pulled it over her. No way was she getting out of the house if her parents saw her. He best bet was just to dash out as fast as possible and pray they wouldn't hold her up.  
  
She made it out the door with out a question. It was surprisingly warm out for being so late. A slight breeze blew, ruffling her hair. It seemed quiet outside, but not completely. She felt strangle calm at the moment, considering the turmoil she'd gone through this morning. She had a feeling of purpose. That was the only way she could describe it. She had something to do tonight, whatever the hell it happened to be.   
  
She made it to Jesse's house, which was a two story apartment. The lights were low inside and music was playing. It was fast with a heavy, syrupy beat. The atmosphere of the place quickly pulled her in. Her hand was on the doorknob when it opened. Jesse smiled down at her. She looked different, sort of. She was sweaty, but she looked good. She was wearing less clothes than normal, and she had a nice body. A boy with long dreads was curled around her waste.  
  
"Hermione! You came! Come in, come in!" She ushered Hermione into the house, which was filled with pulsing, blue strobe lights. Everything looked strange and surreal, like an old movie. With the quick flashes of light, the connectedness of the movements was lost, making everything jerky and confusing. If someone moved a few feet, you lost them with your eyes.  
  
Jesse was still behind her. She moved up behind Hermione and yelled into her ear so she could hear.  
  
"This is the living room, there's dancing upstairs too, in the loft," she explained, pointing up a flight of metal stairs to the second story which was a crowded open loft. The lights up there were red, and maybe it was just the suggested mood, but everything looked more sexual. Jesse pointed over to a large walkway on the first floor, "Through there is the kitchen. There's food and beer. And then den is off there. Up stairs is the bathroom, but someone is having sex in the bathtub I think. So If you have to pee, just pull the curtain across the tub."  
  
Hermione made a face, but nodded anyway.  
  
"And the bedroom is free for whatever, you know. It's upstairs too. The balcony is open as well. I'll be around if you need me."  
  
But when Hermione turned, she had already disappeared. And Hermione was alone at a party full of people she didn't know. Wait, when had she thought this was a good idea?  
  
She cautiously moved forward, carefully weaving through the crowd. She kept bumping into people. Slimy, sweaty bodies were rubbing against her. Her skin prickled. That reminded her of something, that was for sure.   
  
Shit, she'd thought she'd pushed that away from her mind. She wasn't going to think of it. Not now. She moved faster, as if trying to out run the guilt that was still tailing her. She came up to a doorway and walked through, finding the kitchen. It was packed, but not as heavily as the living room. Everyone was standing around, sipping on drinks.  
  
Suddenly, that seemed like a good idea. Hermione had only drank one other time in her life, and it hadn't been a good experience. But right now, the urge was calling her. She went over the counter where the six packs were lined up and popped one off, pulling the tab. It snapped and the amber beer sloshed out. She licked her lips apprehensively, then brought the can to her lips and drank quickly, trying not to taste it. She'd downed the entire can in about a minute, and tossed it to the trash. Well, she still felt awkward. That worked well.  
  
A few minutes later though, she was feeling slightly better. Whether that was the drink or not, she didn't know. But she felt brave enough to go back into the living room and sit on a couch and watch people dance and talk. She sat maybe 15 minutes when someone plopped down on the opposite side of the couch.  
  
She ignored it a minute, until someone started clearing their throat. She turned and gasped in surprise.  
  
It was the boy. The one who came into the store everyday. He was wearing a big smile and holding something clear in a plastic cup.  
  
"Hi there," he said.  
  
Hermione scooted over towards him, almost grateful that anyone was talking to her. "Hi," she said, batting her eyes. Whoa, slow down 'Mione. Don't be too eager.  
  
But he did look ok. Better than that actual. He was no Malfoy, but then no one was. Malfoy was agod. This kid was good though. And she wasn't thinking about Malfoy tonight.  
  
"I didn't know you were coming," he said, and Hermione could tell he was lying. But whatever.  
  
"What are you drinking?" she blurted. What was she? An alcoholic now?  
  
"Er…Vodka I guess," he shrugged. "Did you want some?"  
  
"Sure," she answered. What on earth was she thinking?  
  
Well, she did still need something to take her edge off. She felt so uptight tonight. What was her problem?  
  
Guilt, he brain answered truthfully.  
  
NO NO NO! It was fair what she did.  
  
"Here," he handed her the cup.  
  
She drank it all the way down, feeling suddenly blurry around her edges. She turned back to him. He did look good, she decided.  
  
"What's your name?" she asked.  
  
"Nicolas. Well Nick. You're Her…Herm…"  
  
"Hermione."  
  
"Oh. Well that's pretty," he said, sliding over closer to her. "L…like you. Ah…you're pretty too."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Damn, she felt warm all over. And dizzy. Nick, huh? Boring, but it suited him. He looked like a Nick.   
  
He looked down, then back up. His hand went up to her face slowly, jerking back once and then brushing her hair back.  
  
"I…um. I've noticed you at the store. Where you work," he babbled. He was nervous. How cute, she though. She suddenly felt giggly.  
  
"Let's go get another drink," she said, grabbing his hand. She pulled him into the kitchen and grabbed a tiny cup of something and drank it. It burned like hell. It burned like Malfoy's skin on hers.  
  
She shuddered at the thought. She didn't want to think about that. She wanted to think about here and now. And this boy. Nick or whatever.  
  
She smiled at him, and he was positively glowing.   
  
"You look good tonight," she told him, leaning close. "I've noticed you at the store too."  
  
"I come in a lot," he explained lamely.  
  
"I know."  
  
"Oh."  
  
The stood in silence. Say something! She commanded herself. But her mind felt blank.  
  
"Hey, uh, do you like this song?" he asked. Hermione listened, and nodded.   
  
"Well, do you want to dance?" he asked.  
  
Oh. Dancing. Right. That was good. Why didn't she think of that?  
  
"Yeah! Let's go."  
  
They both went back out to the living room and started to sway with the mass of people. Nick moved closer, behind her, putting his hands on her hips. A jolt went through her. That felt good, she thought. She moved closer to him, grinding against him. His body felt hard and compact. Not at all like Malfoy, and she liked that. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, swaying her hips closer to his. Then she went down, dancing down to the ground, dragging her hands after her. She pulled back up and found herself nose to nose with the boy.  
  
He leaned forward and kissed her. He shoved his tongue into her mouth. His mouth closed over hers. It was rather wet. She felt a bit like he were attacking her face, trying to eat her or something. But she supposed it wasn't that bad. Not really.   
  
So she kissed him back, and soon they were back against the stairs, making out. He had his hand under her shirt, running up and down her back. She thought for a minute maybe she ought to stop him. After all, she really didn't even know him. But then, she didn't really know Malfoy either and she'd had sex with him last night. And this was just a little harmless kissing. Nothing to worry about.  
  
She couldn't really hear the music any more. It just sounded like noise. She felt rather dizzy. Actually, very dizzy. She tried to grab onto something stable, but all she could was Mick's belt buckle. Mick. Or Nick. One of those.  
  
He slammed into her, ripping his hand out of her shirt and grabbing her breast through her shirt. She giggled, but she wasn't sure why. It just seemed funny, they way guys were going nutty after her nana's lately. She didn't see what the big deal about them was.  
  
Boy, was she dizzy. She opened her eyes but the blurred sight of Mick sucking her face off was horrifying and she immediately shut them.  
  
"Mmmmick," she murmured against his face. "Mick."  
  
"Nick," he moaned, squeezing her left breast like he were trying to give her a mammogram.  
  
"Yeah, whatever. Is there anywhere I can lay down?"  
  
From the look on his face, he misunderstood her request, but what the hell. He eagerly took her hand and dashed up the stairs, pulling her along. The raced down the hall, Hermione tripping a bit. She couldn't see well, and her sense of balance was off. Was she sick or something?  
  
Mick opened the door to a room, which turned out to be a bedroom. There was a nice big bed inside, looking rather fluffy. Hermione dove onto it, followed by Mack, who grabbed her and pulled her towards him. She laughed and covered her mouth.  
  
"What's so funny?" he asked.  
  
"You," she blurted, then laughed again.  
  
"Why?" he asked her rather crossly. He didn't look so good when he was mad. His eyebrows came together in a rather unappealing way. Better make him happy again, she thought.  
  
"No reason," she shrugged, then cuddled up to him. He crushed his mouth to hers again, to resume slobbering on her. Oh well. She could do this for a while. It was better than sitting downstairs where she didn't know anyone.  
  
He was starting to get rougher, sucking her tongue hard and pawing at her. One of his hands settled on her inner thigh, causing her to jump. She pulled away from his mouth but he caught her again. So she tried to push him off, but he just started grabbing her harder.  
  
Suddenly, she felt cold. Her stomach dropped a little. She pressed her hands against his chest and shoved. He would give. And he was heavy. He was now on top of her, with his hand under her skirt. Oh shit.  
  
Don't panic, she thought. You got yourself into this, you can get out.   
  
She squirmed, and tried kicking her legs. He was touching her THERE now and she didn't like it. He was too rough. Too clumsy. She wanted him off her.  
  
"Mack!" she shouted, gasping for breath. He sucked her neck savagely. She yelped a bit as he bit down.  
  
"Mack stop!" she panted.  
  
"It's Nick. You know you want this," he said, rubbing her hard through her panties. She tried to kick him to no avail.  
  
"No…"   
  
He covered her mouth again. His tongue was like a some giant swamp monster. And his hands were clammy. Her head started to ache. She was so dizzy. So tired. She wanted this to stop. Why wouldn't Mickey stop?  
  
Her heart was pounding. She felt so heavy. She couldn't lift her limps properly to fight him. And her mind felt so slow. Like she was moving through honey.   
  
God.  
  
Mickey's hips were crushing hers. He was so heavy. She couldn't breath. She couldn't get a fucking breath, what with him smashing her lungs and plugging up her airway with his tongue. She felt tears spike her eyes. Why wouldn't he get off? Why wouldn't he leave her alone? Why wasn't he listening? She wiggled but he was holding her down. He had her arms pinned over her head. He was pressing down. God. Someone get him off! Some help!  
  
The tears were slipping down her cheeks when Mickey suddenly rose up and flew across the room. No, he didn't fly. He was thrown. Hermione sat up, pulling her skirt down. Markey was laying in the corner, holding his head.   
  
Someone blazed across the room in a white flash and decked Markey in his mouth. When the person backed away, Mark was bleeding. He barely had time to touch his fingers to his lips before the person picked him up and pulled him across the room. He planted one more punch on his face and shoved him out the door.  
  
"Stay the fuck away from her, you fucking asshole loving, ugly little shit!" the person yelled.  
  
He turned, hair fanning out like a halo. Was it an angel? Had an angel saved her? She couldn't tell, everything was so blurry.  
  
He slammed the door shut and approached her. She was feeling sick. She tried to look at him but it was making her eyes hurt.  
  
"Hermione, are you ok?" he asked softly, placing a soft hand on her arm. Her skin flushed and her body felt a tremor go through it. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling.  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
A hand brushed her hair away, and another trailed over her, touching her to see if she was ok. She opened her eyes and tried to see. So blurry.  
  
"Well, you should be fucking glad, you stupid prat. You could have got your pretty little ass raped," he said.  
  
Hermione eye's suddenly focused. This was no angel.   
  
This was Malfoy.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend". --Martin Luther King, Jr.  
  
  
  
  
"Oh good. It's not a party without Satan," Hermione said, pulling her legs up under her. Malfoy just gaped out her.  
  
"Don't give me any of that shit. We're equal now. You're as bad as me," he quipped, frowning. Was this the fucking thanks he got for punching that guys lights out for her? His hand hurt, damn it.   
  
"What are you talking about?" she asked.  
  
"Don't act fucking dumb. You walked out on me-"  
  
"I didn't know you cared," she said, looking smug. She wavered a bit. He chose to ignore her comment.  
  
"You're drunk," he pointed out instead.  
  
She glowered at him, "I am not."  
  
"Like hell you're not!" Malfoy exploded. He walked to the bed were she was perched sloppily. One of her shirt straps was still pulled down but she hadn't noticed.   
  
"You were just about to get raped, or at least molested."  
  
Granger lowered her head. Lose hairs were floating in her face, "I wasn't. I know him."  
  
"From where?"  
  
"The store. He comes in," she lifted her head and tossed her hair, "You're just jealous."  
  
Malfoy felt hot. He flares his nostrils as he exhaled, "I'm not fucking jealous. I'm telling you what you already know. Whoever he was, he-was-going-to-rape-you."  
  
"He…He was not," Hermione stammered, sitting up on her knees, "I wouldn't have let him."  
  
"Let him? Let him! Do you think million of women LET themselves get raped?"  
  
"I could have stopped him."  
  
Malfoy was steaming mad. Who was being naïve now? Who was fucking smashed at a party full of people she didn't know? Who was upstairs, alone, with a drunk boy she'd just met? Malfoy tore towards the bed and tackled Hermione down, pinning her arms over her head, squeezing her wrists.  
  
"Could have stopped him?" he screamed, "Could you have! If he did this, could you get him off of you?"  
  
Hermione wriggled and tried to kick but Malfoy held her legs down with his own. His breath was coming hard. He was panting. He would show her. He would teach her. Make sure she never made this dumb mistake again.  
  
"Come on, Hermione, throw me off. Stop me!" He yelled. She pressed her head into the bed, looking terrified.  
  
"Malfoy don't…"  
  
"Oh yeah, that's good. Beg me, Granger. That only makes this better…"  
  
He switched to holding her wrists with one hand, using his free hand to roam over her stomach. It was soft and curved. It felt good. He remembered what it looked like naked from last night.  
  
"Stop me," he taunted, "Make me quit. Fight me off you fucking bitch!"  
  
Her eyes closed and she opened her mouth but no words came. She was fighting hard, he could tell, but he was barely budging. He moved his hand up to her breasts, stroking and squeezing hard.  
  
"Does that hurt? Do you want me to stop?" he asked.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
He just laughed and tugged her other shirt strap down. He pulled her shirt down, exposing a breast. A tear trickled down her face.  
  
"Draco, please…" she whimpered pathetically. Yeah, cry. You deserve it, he thought. For being so fucking dumb. For getting into the situation she was in five minutes ago, and for what she did to him so carelessly last night. He wanted her to cry. He wanted her to cry harder.  
  
He left her breast exposed and moved down between her legs. Without warning, he shoved two fingers in. She cried out and jerked up, trying to kick. Arching her back. He knew it hurt.   
  
Good.  
  
That would fucking teach her.  
  
She was sobbing his name now, begging. He didn't care. He wanted to make sure she never forget this. Pulling his fingers out, he yanked her skirt up to her waist. In one quick maneuver, he flipped her over onto her stomach. He yanked her skirt up more, taking in her bare, perfect ass. Then he brought down his hand so hard that she choked on her tears.  
  
"Draco…" she cried, "Please. I…I…"  
  
He crawled over her body, holding her hands, squeezing tight. He leaned and whispered in her ear.   
  
"You what? You want me to stop?"  
  
She nodded, tears flowing.  
  
"Do you think You can stop me?"  
  
She shook her head no.  
  
"Good. You're right. I hope you learned something."  
  
He pushed himself up off the bed, straitening his shirt, smoothing his sleeve over his left arm. She sat up, pulling her shirt up and skirt down. She wiped her face and looked at him, her eyes watery. Suddenly, something struck him. Like a punch in the stomach.  
  
What he'd just done was sick.  
  
She got up and ran across the room to the bathroom down and flung herself at the toilet, vomiting. The sound made his stomach turn, and he backed against the wall. On the other side of the room, he could see his reflection. Pale, with flashing eyes. What had he just done? Oh God. He'd let his anger get the best of him. His rage. His…jealousy.   
  
He'd gone off the deep end when he saw that boy in here, groping her, feeling her up like she wasn't anything but a pair of breast and a cunt. No body was going to touch her like that.  
  
But fuck, what had he just done? The same thing! When he should have been holding her and making sure she was ok. He'd attacked her. Hurt her. GOD! He was sick. So fucking sick and twisted.  
  
She was still throwing up. He closed his eyes. Tried not to hear the repercussions of what he'd just done. But there it was. Right there, thrown in his face. This was who he was. Malfoy. A heartless bastard.  
  
She was coughing. He moved slowly to the bathroom, knowing her should leave her but he couldn't. He knelt down next to her, placing a hand on her back. Instead of lashing out against him, she just started to cry softly. Astonished, he curled his other arm around her and she turned, pressing her face into his chest.  
  
He moved his leg over and kicked the door shut. He heard a strange click but ignored it. He stroked her hair, accidentally pulling out a few body pins. He wished she hadn't worn it up. He wanted to run his hands through it.  
  
Suddenly, she snapped up.  
  
"Draco," she said angrily, "You are so sick. Y..You…" she didn't finish, but she didn't need to. Chills were already running up his spin.  
  
He took her hands from her hair, "I know. I know, I know, Hermione."  
  
She jerked up and shoved him off, pushing him into the door. "Don't touch me!" she yelled, "You are so used to being able to do whatever you want, aren't you? Your family doesn't care what you do. Your friends don't care. No has the balls to say anything to you. I used to wonder what you'd do if someone finally stood up to you. I guess I'm about to find out."  
  
Draco blinked and moved forward, trying to grab her hand. "Herm-"  
  
"No, Draco. Don't touch me. I'm not a dumb girl, you aren't going to make me forget who you are by seducing me."  
  
He looked at her incredulously, "Seducing you? Hermione, please. I'm not. I just want you to know I'm…"  
  
She shook her head, "No. You think you can win me back over by being cute and apologetic. You aren't used to anyone showing any resistance, are you? What did your mother do when you did something wrong as a kid? Probably nothing. And your father probably encouraged you. Well, I wont. I don't know how I almost…" she stopped, taking a breath and gulping, "I hate you."  
  
With that, she moved past him to the door. She slipped her white knuckled fist over the knob and yanked it but nothing happen. After a few more yanks she turned back, red faced and looking angrier than ever. Draco wanted to run. He really did.   
  
"We're locked IN!" she screamed. She looked ready to kill him. "This is your fault! You sick fucking retard. You got us locked in!"  
  
Draco backed away, "I didn't know. Hermione, I didn't mean for us to get locked in. Do you think I'd lock myself in with you looking like your ready to tear into me."  
  
Hermione drug her hands over her face. "I don't know. UGHHHH! How could this happen!" She eyes darted around the small room and locked in on the tiny, dirty window. She leapt forward to it, shoving the window up. Draco grabbed her around the waist.  
  
"No! We're up too high!" he yelled, pulling her back. She pounded her fists into every part of him she could reach.  
  
"I'm not staying here all night with you!" she protested.  
  
"Is it really so bad? It has to be better than flinging yourself out of an open window."  
  
"I don't know about that."  
  
He pulled her down, "Just sit. Calm down."  
  
She plopped down onto the toilet seat looking homicidal. Her hair was everywhere now. She looked like a caged animal.   
  
Draco backed away, leaning against the opposite wall. "Maybe-" he started.  
  
"Shut up," she snapped. "Don't talk to me."  
  
"We're going to be here for hours and you-"  
  
"I don't care. Don't talk."  
  
"Fine," Draco said sulkily and lowered himself into the empty bathtub. He slung one foot over the side and surveyed the small room. Not much ventilation. Casting a glare over his shoulder at Hermione, he pulled a box of cigarettes and yanked on out, lighting it. He took a long drag and exhaled a gray cloud of smoke. Hermione gave him a look but didn't say anything. Draco bit his lip and took another puff, intent on filling the room with smoke.   
  
*~*~*  
  
Nearly two hours later, Malfoy had smoked his way through more than half his pack and still not a peep out of Hermione. But he'd had plenty of time to think about the few things she Had said to him before. She was right about a lot of things. He wasn't used to girls resisting him. Maybe that's why he was so interested in her.  
  
She was shoved into the opposite corner, sitting with her knees up, and unbeknownst to her, a tiny peek of her panties was showing. Draco had been sneaking looks every few minutes and he was starting to feel uncomfortable in the pants, so to say. The truth was, she looked amazing. She was sulky and flushed. Her hair was everywhere, falling over her shinning brown eyes. Her lips were pursed and moist. She'd been licking them. He didn't think she had any idea how excited that made him. Surely if she did, she would have stopped by now.  
  
Draco had always though Hermione was just a snotty bitch. A hot bitch, but still a bitch. And he'd been right, but there was so much more to her. She had a temper that he respected. She was set on putting him in his place. Quite ambitious of her. She was fiery and emotional. He used to think those were bad qualities. He was used to dating the docile type. The kind that did his every bidding. Get him a drink? Sure thing! Give him a foot massage? Gladly. Blowjob? He needn't ask twice.  
  
But Hermione was better than all that. Hermione shagged like no one he'd ever been with. She rode him like she were scratching an itch. Her eyes seemed alive and she was scorching hot. Damn, she'd even made him go on his knees for her. And he'd done it. He'd pitched his precious pride to the ditch for one more minute of her. And he knew now that it had been worth it.  
  
But now he'd gone and messed up again. He'd let his jealousy get the best of him, and he'd really hurt her this time. Not that he cared, mind you. But he'd kind of screwed his chances.  
  
Hermione coughed. It was the first noise she'd made in two hours.   
  
In response, Draco flicked his cigarette butt at her.  
  
She jump up and brushed it off of her like it was a bug. "God, why the hell did you do that?" she demanded.  
  
He grinned, "To get you to say something."  
  
Her mouth dropped in what he knew was preparation for a retort but she shut it again. She did that a few more times before turning bright read and letting out a growl. She marched back to the door and attacked the knob.  
  
Draco just laughed and stood up, scattering the other cigarette butts that were settled on his chest. "Hermione, come on. I don't want to sit here in silence anymore."  
  
She snapped her head around, "Well, I don't want to sit here with you at all."  
  
"What could I do to make this better for you?" he asked.  
  
She didn't miss a beat before saying, "You could jump out that window. Go head first so you die quickly. I don't want your suffering on my conscience."  
  
He frowned, "Come on, Hermione. This isn't exactly a picnic for me either but at least I'm trying."  
  
"Oh, by filling room with smoke until my eyes are red and my lungs are black. God, I'd hate to see you TRY to annoy me."  
  
"I was trying to get you to talk!"   
  
Hermione regarded him a moment then asked, "And why would you want to talk to me?"  
  
"Because," he swallowed, "I like when you talk. Even when you're mad. I…" He dropped off, already feeling stupid. WHY did he say that? Now she was going to think he liked her. Well, KNOW he liked her, because he did. And not just her hot ass either.  
  
"Malfoy, don't…"  
  
"Don't do what? Tell the truth?" he blurted, and kept on going, "Do you think I tell all girls that? God, Hermione, do you think I like listening to most girls babble? Why would I encourage them?"  
  
He stopped and looked at her. She was just watching him. Nothing more. There was no emotion on her face other than interest in what he was saying. Well then, here was his big moment. He couldn't fuck up now. He was going to do this right.  
  
"But you're different. You're mean to me. You beat me at my own games. I think that's cool."  
  
She blinked, "What are you getting at? What do you want?"  
  
"Nothing! I'm not trying to get anything from you. I was just telling you the truth."  
  
He held his breath and watched her. She didn't move. A piece of hair was fluttering in her face, moved by the breeze coming in through the open window.  
  
"I…I like you, Hermione."  
  
The door banged open. A very drunk Jesse stood wavering in the doorframe, giggling.  
  
"I am sooooo sorry, you guys. I forgot to tell you about the door!" she said.  
  
Hermione smiled, "It's ok."  
  
With a quick, unfelt smile at Draco, she dashed out of the small room and disappeared into the hall. Draco was left alone. Jesse smiled at him, then followed Hermione out. Draco just watched, before sinking to the floor.  
  
She'd smiled. It'd been so fake. So clear an answer.  
  
She didn't feel the same way.   
  
What had he expected, after all? He was just Draco Malfoy, the inbred bastard. Not even his father wanted him. 


	7. AfterParty

Author's Note: Well, I've finally quasi figured out where this story is going. It's going to be longer than my other stories but I don't think anyone is going to object to that. WARNING! This chapter is sickeningly fluffy, but it had to happen. I'm sorry. But there is some dirty stuff, so hopefully that makes up for it. These chapters should start coming faster now that it's summer and I've got nothing better to do (I work but only 6-8 hours a week, so not much.) But, if you can't get enough of me, there's always my online journal at www.deadjournal.com/~kittenxmmmx, for daily ramblings.  
  
  
  
"I'm Standing on a bridge   
I'm waiting in the dark   
I thought that you'd be here by now   
There's nothing but the rain   
No footsteps on the ground   
I'm listening but there's no sound   
  
Isn't anyone trying to find me?   
Won't someone please take me home   
It's a damn cold night   
Trying to figure out this life   
Wont you take me by the hand   
take me somewhere new   
I don't know who you are   
but I'm, I'm with you "  
  
-Avril Lavigne, "I'm with you"  
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione stopped on the bridge, halfway back to her house. She briefly wondered what time it was, casting her eyes up the black and purple sky, scattered with stars. The moon was full and large and glowing a pale greenish yellow. It was eerie how quiet it was. Her breath seemed to eco off the trees and water, and fill up the cool, thin air. Her own footsteps crunched and cracked over the gravel loudly. The rustle of the fabric of her tight skirt seemed louder than the wind. where was everyone? It felt like she was alone in the city.  
  
She looked down at the water, rippling slightly. A leaf fell from a near by tree, touching the water and creating vibrations that moved in circles around it.  
  
She turned and leaned against the stone rails. It was so silent here. She couldn't hear another human being for miles. She knew they were all around her, in the buildings, apartments. Just a few streets down, Draco was still at the party. At least, she though he was.  
  
But where else would he be? Chasing after her? Why would he do that. Why would she want him to?  
  
A cold breeze wrapped around her. She chewed her lip and felt her stomach flip and flutter. She knew her loneliness was caused by his absence. Tonight, he'd been with her. For hours his annoying presence had filled a void in her. One that'd been there her whole life. But what had she done when he'd finally reached out to her? Ran away.   
  
She slouched down, wondering if she'd lost her chance.   
  
It was so hard. She hated him, or thought she did. But there was something about him. He brought out the best and worst in her. He made her feel like there was nothing to be scared of, not even the consequences of her own actions. She'd never felt like that. She'd always stuck rigidly to the rules. Never took chances.   
  
But right now she felt ready to take a chance. A chance on Draco, to speak in clichés. She wanted to know what it would be like to be with him, be his girl. Maybe even his love. If not that, then a least be a real friend to him. She didn't think he'd had any of those.  
  
Was she fooling herself in thinking he actually wanted her? He said he did but…  
  
Well, she was willing to find out.  
  
She turned back to the water, listening to the trickle. It seemed to be the only sound, besides her own breathing. She wrapped her coat tightly over herself. It was chilly. Very chilly. And so damn quiet. It was maddening.   
  
Maybe she should just go home.  
  
But for some reason, she couldn't tear herself away. Going home seemed like it meant she was giving up. But going back seemed like giving in. And she was stuck in between.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Malfoy walked down the steps from the apartment slowly, dragging his feet. Hermione must have left. He'd looked all over and she wasn't anywhere. He'd seen that bastard that had tried to rape her too. He wanted to run over and teach that kid a lesson he wouldn't soon forget, but he stopped himself. He had to stop doing that. He had to control himself.  
  
Look what happened when he didn't.  
  
He'd scared Hermione away so many times. It was hopeless. He was a fuckup, and that's what he was going to be for the rest of his life.  
  
He wrapped his arms around himself. It was damn chilly out tonight. It hadn't been when he left, even though he'd worn a sweater. No one had noticed that yet. He figured they would soon. He was working on an excuse. He couldn't very well tell the Muggles the real reason he had to cover his arm.  
  
He was coming up to the bridge. It was dark, but it looked like someone was standing on it. As he got closer, he started to suspect it was a female. Long legs, slender body. Breasts. Yes, definitely a female.  
  
He quieted his step as he approached, watching her. She was just standing, looking out over the dark water. She looked kind of sad, judging from her body langue. He briefly wondered what her problem was. With a body like that, she had no reason to pout.  
  
He stepped briefly in and out of the lamp light. She still didn't turn as he came almost close enough to see her face. She was practically in a catatonic state. What was her deal? Didn't she know that it was four in the morning? It wasn't safe for her to be out at this time. People like him were roaming the streets.  
  
He glided up to her silently, now intrigued. He cleared his throat softly and said, "Well, hello there."  
  
*~*~*  
  
Hermione was so lost in her own mind that she didn't even see the approaching male until he growled a sexy "Hello there." her head jerked to the side and her lips slide apart, and she gasped slightly.  
  
"Hermione?" he asked, as if surprised.  
  
"Who else would it be?" she asked.  
  
He shrugged, "I..I don't know. I didn't expect you to be out here day dreaming. It's dangerous you know."  
  
"And you care about my safety?"  
  
He shrugged again, "Well, yeah."  
  
She bit down on the inside of her cheek, then suddenly blurted, "Did you mean what you said?"  
  
He looked confused, "Did I mean what?"  
  
"That you...you liked me."  
  
"Of course. I wouldn't just make that up. I-"  
  
He didn't finish that though because Hermione jumped forward, grabbed the back of his head and pressed her lips to his. He quickly wrapped her arms around her back and pulled her closer, bending down slightly. She tilted her head up and entered his mouth, loving the taste of him. She pulled him even tighter, wanting to feel him all around her. Wanting to fill that empty loneliness that had plagued her minutes before.  
  
She felt so warm suddenly. A tingle went down her spine all the way to her toes and back up to her head, making her feel faint. All she could think was Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy. She wanted him so bad right now. Everything he was, good and bad. She wanted to make that hers.  
  
Her fingers were in his hair. It was soft, like a baby's hair. His skin was soft too. Everything about his body was soft, which was strange, because everything about his personality was hard. Well mostly. He did seem to have a soft spot. Hidden well, but it was there.  
  
He leaned her against the rail, kissing her so softly that she thought it couldn't be Malfoy.   
  
"Hermione…" he murmured. "Hermuione, this isn't a trick is it?"  
  
She smiled, "Mmm, not this time."  
  
Then she silenced his with kisses. He kissed her back all over her face. He stopped in between to look at her. His face was lit up.   
  
Is it me? She asked him silently. Do I make you look like that?  
  
*~*~*  
  
This wasn't happening. It wasn't. He didn't deserve this. As he placed kisses all over Hermione's pretty face, he was waiting for God to strike him down. To make this all a joke. A bus was going to hit him. Or the rail was going to give away. Something.  
  
"Draco," she said. He looked up at her, into her eyes. They were twinkling. "Is this a trick," she asked with a smile."  
  
"Hell no," he said, then moved forward to devour her. He couldn't kiss her enough right now. Tomarrow he might kick himself for being so soft to someone. For making himself so vulnerable. In fact, he knew he would. But right now he didn't give a fuck about all that. He just wanted this. This. And her.  
  
All he wanted was her.   
  
Then she pulled away, but she took his hand.  
  
"Lets go home," she said.  
  
"Yours or mine?" he asked.  
  
"Yours."  
  
*~*~*  
  
They got to his house in record time and were already pulling each other clothes off and Draco searched his pockets for his keys. As soon as the door was open, Hermione had his pants off. He kicked them aside, and yanked at her bra straps. They came down as she unsnapped it and the whole thing fell away. His mouth was over her nipples before she had a chance to disrobe further. He pushed her down onto the arm of the couch, causing her to arch back.  
  
He continues to tease her nipples with his tongue, meanwhile he moved his hand between her legs, rubbing her through her panties. Just rubbing, but it mad her feel so hot. She dropped her head back and just enjoyed for a few minutes.  
  
Finally, she pushed him off and tore off his boxers. He looked so god damn good naked. He was thin and tall, perfect for wrapping around her own form. She wondered what he looked like wrapped around her. Then she had an idea.  
  
She yanked down her skirt, and dashed to the hall. She stopped and wiggled her ass at Draco.  
  
"Come chase me," she said.  
  
He raised his eyebrows at her and crossed him arms, "No."  
  
She ran down the hall anyway, and Draco bounded after her, catching up quickly and scooping her up. He spun her around and ran for the bedroom, and practically jumped at the bed, dropping her on the soft mattress. She laughed as she bounced. Draco crawled over her, but she slithered out from under him. She put her finger over his lips and said, "Wait here."  
  
Then she went to his dresser and pulled at the mirror over it.  
  
"What are you-" he protested. She turned and put her finger to her lips, then went back to pulling the large mirror down. She carried it over to the bed and set it against the footboard.  
  
"Ooooh," he said slowly, suddenly serious. Hermione wiggled out of her panties and slung them around her finger, then tossed them. She slide up onto the bed and kissed him once then moved lower to give a kiss to Mini Malfoy. She drew it into her mouth to wet it, then moved back up. She wrapped her fingers around his member and started to slide them up and down. Meanwhile, Draco kissed her neck and collarbones.  
  
Hermioen cast her eyes towards the mirror and was frankly shocked at the sight. There she was, studious Hermione. With badass, sex god Malfoy working his long fingers up and down her back, kissing her all over. And there was her hand wrapped possessively around his manhood. Like it belonged there. Suddenly she thought of what her friends would think, but she quickly pushed that though out of her head.  
  
Malfoy lifted his lips and kissed her forehead, then her cheeks. He was kissing her very fast. He grabbed her free hand and entwined his fingers with hers. Then he lowered her, kissing a trail down her face to her neck, between her breasts, and down her stomach. She went limp and just breathed.  
  
"Seniorita, you are so beautiful," he said in a fake Spanish accent.  
  
She sat up and put her forehead to his, "Gracias, Senior," she answered back.  
  
"I should like to make love to you," he growled in the same accent.  
  
Hermione sat back, "But sir! I barely know you!"  
  
"Ah, but you shall get to know me. You shall know my body…" he kissed her hand, "And I shall know yours."  
  
Hermione tried not to laugh, enjoying this play. Instead, she looked at her hand and gasped, "What will the sisters at the convent think? I am but a young, naïve, Catholic girl!"  
  
"I think the sisters will be jealous," he said, licking her top lip. He quickly flicked his hand towards her lower region.  
  
"Oh Senior!" she cried.  
  
"Yes, Seniorita?" he asked, drawing circles slowly around her clit.  
  
She moaned and closed her eyes, leaning her head back and offering her neck to his kisses. "Yes. Please, make love to me," she purred deep in her throat, accent thick.  
  
He placed his hand under her head and pushed it up to meet her eyes. He looked very serious when he said, "Are you sure? You can never go back to the convent if you do. You can not be a nun if you are not a virgin."  
  
She grinned, "I'm still not a virgin, Senoir."  
  
"Very well then! I'll shall take you!" he shouted, tumbling down over top of her. He entered her quickly, making her scream with pleasure and surprise. He made love to her franticly, as if she might disappear. He whispered and moaned things in Spanish and English, sometimes forgetting the accent. She did the same, dragging her nails up and down his back and tumbling over him to be on top. He quickly turned over to put her back on the bottom. They rolled back and forth, half laughing, half grunting, until finally they came in between, with both of them facing each other, struggling to roll over the other.  
  
When they had both finished, the snuggled together. Hermione fit her head under Draco's chin, curling her hand on his chest. Her eyes slide towards the mirror lazily. She saw herself and Malfoy, cuddled together like they belonged that way.  
  
But they didn't. She knew that.  
  
Still, the way they looked together, it took her breath away. Malfoy was holding her so protectively. His eyes were closed and his face was in her hair. One hand held her shoulder and the other, her hip. Her own arms were wrapped identically around him. Her face looked tired but happy. Malfoy was the same. There was a slight smile playing on his closed lips, then he lowered his head to kiss her hair.  
  
She shivered, feeling the intensity of that action, and closed her eyes. In this moment, she was happy. So happy. She knew this couldn't be real. This whole image would be shattered by morning. When she realized who she was, and who Malfoy was. When her friends found out. And would Malfoy tell everyone at school? Would Jesse find out? Her parents? His parents?   
  
Oh God, they would kill her. Or him. Or both.  
  
She was already starting to feel sick at the thought of tomorrow. But it wasn't then yet. She still had tonight. She had this moment she was in. She could stay in that now.  
  
She took a breath and let her thoughts drift away, slipping into unconsciousness. 


	8. Bad Things Happen

Author's Note: Some good news. I finally figured out what the ending to this story will be. But don't worry, it's not coming too soon, although the story is heading towards the climatic finish. Again, thanks you so much for the wonderful reviews. A special thanks to Key, who left two very long and detailed ones. I was very flattered. Also thanks to those who did take a look at my online journal (www.deadjournal.com/~kittenxmmx), and especial to the ones who left comments.  
  
And now, on with the story….!  
  
  
  
  
"Somebody's screaming  
looking at the ceiling  
everything's so funny  
I don't have any money  
people don't even know me  
but they know how to show me  
  
Why can't you be nicer to me?  
  
My pride is dying  
I think I'm all done lying  
nobody's sharing  
so I stop caring  
all alone and walking  
nobody's talking "  
  
'Why can't you be nicer to me?' by The White Stripes   
  
  
  
  
Draco awoke with a feeling of acute drowsiness. Exhaustion swamped him, pulling him back down into unconscious bliss. But the feeling that something was not as it should be roused him, nagging him. He opened his eyes and was blinded by the light streaming through the blinds. Well, that was one thing. He always slept with his blinds closed.  
  
He rolled over towards the middle of the bed, laying on arm over it. He felt a sudden, intense aloneness. He sat up straight, blinking at the empty spot in the bed. The covers were thrown off, and the sheet was tangled. Someone was supposed to be there.  
  
Hermione.  
  
Oh shit, was she gone again? Draco rose up, grabbing his robe and tying it over his naked body. He moved quickly from the bedroom to the hall, where he was met by a heavenly smell. Pancakes.  
  
Suddenly, a memory from his childhood flooded him. He was young, maybe four, and he was in the kitchen. One of the house elves was preparing breakfast and he was fascinated. He'd never seen anyone cook before. For all he knew before that point, food just materialized on the table. But here was someone (or something) mixing things and stirring, and tossing and turning. It was almost like performing magic, he'd thought. How come they never let him do this?   
  
He walked up behind the house elf, who's name was Fergie, and watched him pour a thick, yellowish white substance onto a cast iron plate. Suddenly, the liquid turned bubbly, then solid, and finally into what he knew was a pancake. But house elves weren't aloud to use magic! How was he doing that?  
  
He asked, and Fergie and the others were thrilled to show him how. They even let him make a few himself, mixing the batter and everything. He was having the best time of his life until he heard the kitchen door slam open and then closed again. Horrified, he looked up to see his mother scowling at him, her lips curled in disgust. She ran right over and grabbed his hand, making him drop the bowl of batter on the floor. She yanked him out of the room, telling him never to come back in there. And lecturing him on why well-bred little boys didn't associate with servants.   
  
And as much as he was afraid of his mother at that young age, he'd been hooked. He returned to the kitchen nearly every night for years, and mastered cooking like no pure blood wizard he knew. He'd suffered more than a few beating from his father for his little "fag hobby" and for "associating with lowly, scum-of-the-earth, dirty house elves", but that hadn't stopped him. Malfoy wasn't anything if not determined.  
  
He chuckled a bit to himself and thought rather morbidly that this was how he'd gotten himself into this whole mess. He smoothed his hand over his left arm habitually and wandered into the kitchen.  
  
His mood brighten considerably at what he saw. Hermione was standing with her back to him wearing one of his black bathrobes. Her wet hair was hanging down her back, and she was padding around barefoot. She held a spatula in one hand and as skillet in the other. She hadn't noticed him come in, apparently.  
  
"That smells wonderful," he said, putting his arms around her. She dropped what she was holding and turned around.  
  
"I didn't know you were awake," she said, then leaned forward to kiss him passionately. He wasn't used to that kind of kiss in the morning. Morning kisses were usually brisk and boring, followed by Malfoy tossing the girl her clothes and pushing her towards the door. Hermione's kiss made him want to linger, spend all morning with her, and maybe all afternoon.  
  
"Your parents," he said, moving over to survey what she was cooking, "Won't they wonder where you are?"  
  
"No, I already called them and told them I spent the night at Jessie's."  
  
He looked up, "Oh good, so your free all morning."  
  
"And all afternoon. It's Sunday, no work."  
  
He thought about that out loud, "All afternoon, huh? What could we POSSABLY do that would take up the whole afternoon?"  
  
Hermione smirked, "I'm sure we could think of something. If you aren't going to kick me out, that is."  
  
"Fuck no. Not with you scampering around my kitchen in my bathrobe. Makes me wonder what's under there…"  
  
Hermione moved closer. "I could show you," she purred. They both exchanged predatorily looks, and Malfoy put his hand in her hair, pulling her close. Hermione locked eyes with him, lifting her chin up towards him. They slowly glided together, then suddenly, Draco's body went stiff.  
  
He face grew ashen, as he stared at something behind Hermione. She turned her head and looked out in the direction which Draco looked. There, just outside the window, on the tree that grew up the side of the house, was an owl. A large, gray owl with a puffed out chest. She turned back to Malfoy.  
  
"Draco, what is-"   
  
He swept past her, shoving open the window. The large bird flew inside, wings flapping past Hermione, and landed on the table atop the finished pancakes, smashing them with it's huge, black talons.   
  
Malfoy's throat closed and a feeling of nausea bubbled over him. He moved stiffly towards the bird, recognizing it on the spot. It turned it's head away from him and scuttled across the table, dragging a few pancakes with him.  
  
"Beadle ," he called to it dryly. The owl turned his head and regarded Draco with large, pale eyes, before turning back and strutting over to him. He held out one foot impatiently while Draco untied the letter with shaking fingers. Then, with a quick fluff of his chest and spreading of his large wings, he soared back out the window and out of sight, leaving behind a number of fluttering, gray feathers as a reminder of his absence.  
  
Draco felt his world go still as he carefully peeled open the letter. As soon as he saw the hand writing he trembled. This could only be bad.  
  
He read it quickly, the blood pumping to his ears, making it hard to hear anything but the rush of blood. As soon as he finished, he dropped it to the floor. With his face a mask, he walked back to the bedroom. Hermione followed, asking question shrilly, but he didn't hear them. He didn't hear anything but the words from the letter repeating over and over again. He leaned over and picked up Hermione clothes and handed them to her. Her face was full of confusion.  
  
"It would be best if you went," he said blankly.  
  
"What? Draco, why? What's going on?"  
  
"It's not you," he said, "I assure you, you are the best thing that's happened to me in along time. But it isn't safe for you to be here. Please go."  
  
"What are you talking about? Why are you acting weird? Draco, say something!" she demanded, staring at his emotionless face.  
  
"Goodbye," he said.  
  
Hermione stared at him, wetness forming in the corners of her eyes, "Are you sure?" she asked. "I can help you."  
  
"No. Please. Goodbye."  
  
She swallowed thickly and nodded, "Ok, then. Fine."  
  
She turned quickly and left them room, pulling the door behind her.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Hermione yanked her shirt over her head, fighting the heavy feeling that was threatening to drag her down. She battled the tears that threatened her, trying not to feel rejected and self conscious. It wasn't her. It wasn't her.  
  
She'd always been horrible at divination. She used to think she didn't have a fortune telling bone in her body. But right now she was so sure something dreadful was happening. She felt Malfoy's fear as heavily as she felt her own. Draco was never scared, but right now, he looked like a little boy. She could see him through the crack in the door, sitting on his bed, looking at his clasped hands.  
  
She yanked up her shirt and tossed her soaked hair over her shoulder. She sadly set out towards the door, but something hit her. It felt like an itch, deep inside. She felt something swirl inside her like fog and pull her. She turned from the door and went back to the kitchen. She looked down the hall to make sure Draco was still in his room before tip toeing in.  
  
Her eyes scanned for something that would catch her attention. She immediately found the letter the owl had brought laying on the floor. She snatched it up and read it.  
  
  
Draco,  
  
I'm writing to tell you that I am through being patient with you. You have acted foolishly and embarrassingly. But I granted you time to think things through. I thought you would have come to your senses by now.  
  
But you always were an irrational, foolish boy. Always a disappointment. I'm fed up with it. I will not having you humiliating me further. You will return home immediately, or I will be forced to come and get you.  
  
Please do not infuriate me further. Come as soon as you receive this.  
  
Lucius  
  
Hermione dropped it. She was beyond confused. She supposed she'd always thought it strange for Draco to be in a Muggle town, but she hadn't really paid much attention. How could she have missed that, though? She should have know something was wrong. She should have noticed.   
  
But she was too busy playing with him. When he was obviously already in turmoil.  
  
But what had happened? Had he ran away? He fought with him father? Been kicked out? Or something else?  
  
A chill ran up her spine. Something was so wrong here. The room suddenly didn't seem bright and airy like it had this morning. It seemed gray. The air was thick. The floor seemed unstable.  
  
She didn't waste a second before turning on her heal and running down the hall.  
  
"Draco!" she yelled, felling urgent. Like she was in hurry. Like she had only a few seconds to get to him.  
  
She saw him look up, dove gray eyes wide. She pushed the door open and looked at him, and she knew he knew. He knew that she knew. She shook her head.  
  
"Draco, what is it? What's wrong?" she asked, moving towards the bed. At that same moment, the front door busted open behind her, and the air split and crackled. A flash of green cracked past her ear and exploded in fireworks on the bed next to Malfoy.  
  
"What are you doing with this Mudblood trash, Draco?" a voice said. Hermione turned, flattening against the door frame. She knew who is was before her eyes settled on him.  
  
Lucius. The being who had spawned the magnificent Draco. The one person who was more evil and more heartless that her new lover. He stood, seething, robes looking strangely out of place in this apartment.  
  
"Answer me! What is she doing here?" he screeched. Hermione trembled.  
  
Draco rose, "Dad, please…"  
  
Another bolt of green lightning shot from the end of Lucius's wand. Draco ducked it, looking horrified.  
  
"Dad! Stop! Let her out," Draco yelled, but his voice was shaking. He was afraid of his father. Not a good sign. Not fucking good at all.  
  
"Not until you tell me what you're doing with her."  
  
"What do you care? You disowned me remember? I'm not your son anymore."  
  
"I gave you time to yourself, to go out in the Muggle world, and see how much better it is with us. You are still my son. You will still obey my wishes."  
  
"No."  
  
Draco stood next to Hermione, inching closer, as if trying to protect her. Hermione would have swooned, if she wasn't preoccupied with being scared shitless.  
  
Lucious raised his wand and narrowed his already beady eyes. "Draco. Son. I want you to tell me why the Mudblood is here."  
  
Draco clicked his teeth together and inhaled deeply.   
  
"She's my girlfriend," he said, through clenched teeth.  
  
Before Hermione had a chance to process the thought, Draco stepped in front of her. A loud snap filled her ears, sounding like a rubber band breaking. A bright flash of multicolored lights filled her eyes, blinding her. Pain exploded in her stomach. She felt like she was on fire. She dropped, screaming, while everything around her turned to a bright, blinding white light. Then she was gone.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"You PRICK!" Draco screamed, dropping to his knees beside Hermione. He grabbed her and pulled her towards him, cradling her. His robe fell open slightly as he bent over her, listening to her chest. Still beating, but faintly. He lifted his head.  
  
"You almost killed her!" he yelled, his tone fluctuating. He couldn't keep the damned emotion from his voice. He'd be damned if he wasn't nearly holding back tears. "You hurt her! You could have killed her. God! God, I hate you!"  
  
Lucius was a picture of tranquility. He looked down at Draco like her were a five year old throwing a tantrum, which is how Draco figured he saw him anyways.  
  
"Relax, Draco. It's just a Mudblood."  
  
"She's half wizard. Half our kind!"  
  
"And half their kind," Lucius answered.  
  
Draco looked back down at Hermione's perfect face. It was perfectly relaxed now, but he remembered her screaming in pain a few seconds before. He had his fingers dug into her wrist but he could barely feel her pulse. "Fuck…" he swore, looking down at her. "Baby…"   
  
Draco looked back up his father, loathing him. "Is she going to die?"  
  
Lucious shrugged, "What does it matter? Draco, come home now. Your mother-"  
  
But Draco wasn't listening. All he heard was his blood pumping through his body. He felt hot, burning. Infuriated. Look at what his FATHER had done now.  
  
Without thinking, he leapt up, grabbing his father around the throat. He crushed it with his fingers, feeling like it was effortless, even though he was grunting with strain. His father's eyes lit up with surprise and he croaked something that Draco couldn't hear.  
  
"I don't care about you or Mom. I care about her! Do you know why? Because she likes me for who I am, not because I'm a Malfoy. Not because of my family heritage. She likes me DESPITE that. You only want me because you need a successor for when your too old. For when you die. That's why you came here."  
  
He released him, shoving his back into the couch.   
  
Lucius touched his throat lightly, and then looked up at Draco. He just watched him. Watched his heaving chest. His eyes went from him to the girl on the floor, then back up.  
  
Then he laughed. He laughed loudly and shrilly. He held his stomach, hurting from the effort.  
  
"You…" he struggled to get out, "You think she likes you? You think she loves you? Draco, nobody loves you. You're heartless. A bastard. A pale, skinny, little brat. No one is ever going to love you. Stop chasing romantic little fantasies. That's not who you are. You are a my son. A Slytherin. A Death Eater…"  
  
Drcao lunged, "No! No, I am not. You forced me, you fuck! You forced me!"  
  
Before Draco could reach him, Lucius pulled out his wand one more time, and feeling no guilt what so ever, he struck his own son. Draco screamed and fell to the floor, writhing. Then he was still. Motionless.   
  
Easy to move.  
  
Lucius cast another quick spell, lifting Draco's body into the air. He hung limply, dangling, then glided forward just at Lucius's shoulder level. Carefully, he walked beside it, out into the hall, where the others were waiting to escort him home.  
  
Oh Draco, he thought, this is all for you…And you appreciate none of it.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Hermione suddenly felt the floor beneath her. Her eyes opened and she sat up, but immediately regretted it. Nausea swept over her sore body. She scrambled up, watching the room sway. Where was she? What was happening to her?  
  
Tears stung her eyes. They felt too hot. She was so confused and everything hurt so bad. Her insides felt like they were just swimming around inside her, all lose and mashing together.  
  
Oh shit, she need something to puke in. She looked around but couldn't figure out where she was. She dropped back to the floor and started crawling, looking. But it was so hard. Nothing looked right. It was all…moving and blurring.   
  
He fingers tangled in the carpet below her. It was so nice and white and still. Suddenly she threw up all over it, then sat up and cried. After a few minutes though, she felt better and got more control over her emotions. Her vision was getting better. She could see she was in a bedroom, but not hers.  
  
Malfoys.  
  
Draco. Suddenly it all came back. Last night. So perfect. And this morning. So terribly wrong.   
  
But wait, where was Draco?  
  
Hemrione looked around and then called out. No answer. Reluctantly, she stood, holding the wall for support. She called out and moved all around the apartment. She checked everywhere. Finally, she had to admit to herself that he wasn't here. He was gone. She was all alone.  
  
She went back to his room, settling slowly onto the bed. She felt so bad, physically. Mentaly, she was a sea of confusion. What she felt for Draco was so strong right now. Maybe she was being foolish, but she wanted him here so much right now. She'd never been the dependant type, but right now she wanted him to tuck her into bed and tell her she was going to be fine and take care of her.  
  
Clutching her stomach, she started to cry again. God, what was wrong with her? Right now was not the time to be a girl. She needed to suck it up and figure out what to do. But her body started to throb and her head started to spin again. She got up quickly and stripped to her under clothes. She grabbed the bathrobe she'd been wearing earlier and wrapped it around her shaking body, then climbed into his bed.   
  
It smelled so strongly of him. She cuddled the pillow, wincing against the pain that filled her. She wondered where Malfoy was. Was he safe? Was he sick like her? Was he alone?  
  
"Draco," she sobbed, then fell asleep.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"So nice to have you back again, Draco," his mother said sincerely. She stood in front of him, holding a tray of food that he normally would have thought looked delicious. She wore her favorite day dress. Blue with a full skirt ending just below her knee. She wore it with a pearl necklace. It made her look ridiculous. She looked like she was trying to intimidate a real mother. Draco snorted to himself.  
  
He was slouching low in one of the huge, clawed, leather arm chairs in his fathers office, with his arm flung over either arm, dangling limply. He refused to make eye contact with anyone. He'd been here, awake, for an hour and so far he hadn't said a word.  
  
His mother tried to set the tray on his lap but he kicked it with his knee. She sighed heavily and said, "I know you're still a bit sick, but you need to eat. You don't look so good."  
  
He suspected he looked far worse than 'not so good'. If he looked the way he fault, then he was a mess. 'Sick' was putting it mildly. He felt like he'd fallen from his broom two thousand feet in the air, and like his stomach had been filled tiny squirrels that were chattering around, scratching and pressing and wiggling their bushy little tails.  
  
"That counter curse should be kicking in full force soon," his mother offered. She bent down to look at him but he turned his head.  
  
"Well, fine, Draco. Be that way," she said, slamming the tray on the desk. She clicked her tongue, "You know we do some much for you, your father and I. We have your best interest in mind, you know. We want you to succeed, and live up to your potential. You're such a smart boy. You could do so much for our cause. You really could. A you are our only child. It's up to you to carry on the Malfoy name." She slouched down again and put her hand on his knee, "You know we love you."  
  
Draco had been immune to words up until that point. But suddenly, he cast his eyes up with out lifting his chin and leered at the women who was unfortunately his mother, though not much of one.   
  
"That's not love," he said simply.  
  
His mother looked taken aback. She rose and stepped back, watching him. He didn't take his eyes off of her, wanting to make her uncomfortable. Make her feel a fraction of what he felt right now. She stepped back again, bumping into a table. She turned and backed towards the door. Finally, glancing back a few times, and shaking her head at him, she left the room.  
  
Alone.  
  
He sighed, sagging back. The leather chair groaned in sync with him. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about where he was. Tried to imagine being somewhere nice. Somewhere bright and sunny, not dark and dreary like the Malfoy Mansion. Somewhere he didn't feel like a prisoner. Somewhere with people he trusted. And liked. Like Hermione.  
  
His eyes flicked open. Poor Hermione. She must feel even worse than him right now. No counter curse. Actually, for all he knew, she could be dead. The curse they were under was sometimes deadly, depending on the wizard who was afflicted. Hermione seemed like the strong type, not the type to just fall over and die without a fight. But alone, in the Muggle world, with no one to help her…  
  
He just didn't know.  
  
Guilt ate at him. It was his fault that this had happened. He should have never got close to her. He shouldn't have put her in danger. Shouldn't have. But selfishly, he was glad he had. He certainly wasn't glad she was hurt (or dead), but he was so thankful to have had her, even for a short time.  
  
He'd had no idea what he was missing until he met her.   
  
He rubbed his aching temples. It wasn't going to do him any good to think of her. It would just make this worse. He had to accept his fate. It was to take his fathers place. He couldn't escape it. It was his destiny. He was going to have to forget whatever foolish notions that had come to him during his time with Hermione. His place was here. In Hell.  
  
Just then, the door opened, and damned if the Dark Lord himself didn't strut in. His father sat at the desk in front of him. Draco resumed not making eye contact. He tried to look catatonic. He didn't want his father to know what he was thinking, or feeling.  
  
There was silence for a long minute. Draco started to get uncomfortable, but he refused to let it show. He just sat, still as the dead, staring blankly. He may have to accept his fate, but he wasn't going to actively participate in his own demise.  
  
Finally, his father spoke.  
  
"Draco, I've seen what you did to your…arm…" he started slowly. Draco started, willing himself into another place. Don't even listen, he thought. Think of other things. Beer and tits. Hermione's tits. Her lips. Her tongue. What she does with her tongue…  
  
"And that will have to be fixed. We will have to redo it."  
  
Too late, Draco already heard. But he didn't say anything. Didn't protest. Didn't even flinch. He didn't do anything.  
  
Lucius rose, watching his son. Draco could feel it. He held his breath. His father walked in a circle about him, never taking his eyes off his face. Draco's eyes went dry from being held open. The moment seemed to stretch on. Who would give in first? Father or son? Lucius drew in a slowly, leisurely breath, as if boasting silently. Then, when Draco still didn't stir, Lucius suddenly brought his hand sharply across his son's face.  
  
Draco's head turned and stayed there. He blinked once.  
  
"One of these days you'll learn to respect me," his father said, then left them room. Draco sighed and lowered his head to his chest. In the corner, the enchanted clock chimed for the new day. It was midnight.  
  
And to think, yesterday his biggest fear was coming too soon. 


	9. The Lovers Part

Author's Notes: Finally, ff.net is working again. It actually took me all that time to write this. I wrote it a few times and didn't like it, but I believe I've finally got it right.

Thank you all for the reviews. They really kept me going when writing this chapter got hard and I wanted to just give up. I'm so glad everyone likes this. A word, though, on something a few reviewers brought up.

Quite a few of you are mentioning Draco and Hermione being OOC. I'm not bothered by you all saying that. My view is this. All of us here, writers and readers, have different ideas about what the characters from Harry Potter are like. We've all read the same books, and have gotten different opinions of the same characters. That's one of the reason I like fan fiction. I like to see the similarities and differences between the interpretations of characters here. If we all had the exact same interp, we'd all be writing the same story, and that would be no fun. So yes, maybe my Draco and my Hermione seem out of character to some, but to me, this is how they are. 

"You're falling back to me,

the star that I can't see.

I know you're out there,

somewhere out there.

You're falling out of reach,

defying gravity,

I know you're out there,

somewhere out there.

I know you'll come back someday,

on a bed of nails awake.

I'm praying that you don't burn out,

or fade away."

- `Somewhere Out There`, by `Our Lady Peace'

There was a strange sound. Little tiny thumps everywhere. They came irregularly, and quick. Then came a rolling growl. It rippled and grew louder, finally crashing down with a flash of brilliant light. Hermione opened her eyes at that moment and saw the room lit up like day, then turn quickly back to a dark gray. 

It was storming. What time was it?

She rolled to her stomach, groaning with the effort. Her body felt slick with hot sweat and the bed felt cold and damp. Next to the clock said it was only noon. That couldn't be right. It was so dark.

The wind shrieked around the apartment, as if to confirm that it was, in fact, storming. It was a hellva storm too. But nothing compared to what Hermione felt inside. She let out a long breath, as a tear slid down her face. She moved to the center of the bed and stared straight up at the ceiling. She had to do something. She had to get help. 

Her parents? Muggles. No good.

She need another witch or wizard. But who? Who could she get to come out here? Who would understand? Who wouldn't judge her by what she'd done to get herself into the situation?

Not Ron. As much as she loved him, she didn't think she could count on him right now. And she didn't want to see the look on his face when she told him about Malfoy.

So it had to be Harry. He would understand. He had to.

She slowly inched back towards the side of the bed to the nightstand. She skimmed her hand over the smooth surface until she found the phone. It was the outdated kind, with a cord. She lifted the receiver and held it close. As lightning flashed again, she quickly dialed the familier number.

Someone picked up on the first ring. The deep voice that answered slowed her pounding heart and filled the silent room. Hermione felt a moment of comfort at the sound.

"Hello?" he said again.

Hermione took a breath and said, "Harry."

She couldn't keep the tears from her voice. Don't panic, she thought. Don't scare him.

"Hermione. What's wrong?" he asked quickly. He was concerned. That was so sweet, she thought. She needed someone to be concerned right now.

"Harry, you know I wouldn't call if it wasn't important," she sobbed breathily, "I don't want to get you in trouble-"

"Don't worry about it. What the hell is wrong?"

"I.I'm not sure. It's some kind of curse. I feel really bad. I can't even get up. I don't know what to do."

"Where are you?"

"I could give you the address. Can you come, Harry?"

"Of course. I'll bring my defenses books, and we'll figure this out, ok? Just relax. Don't try to move around. You're gonna be ok."

He said she was going be ok. God, that was all she wanted to hear right now!

"Thanks, Harry," she answered, sobbing even harder.

"Don't thank me. I'm going to be there as soon as I can, no matter what. I'll have Hedwig deliver me if I have to. Now, what was that address?"

*~*~*

Harry looked up at the building through the rain, holding one hand over his face and the other shielding the scrap of paper with the address. This was the place, alright. But who's house was this? Did Hermione move without telling him? Didn't seem likely.

Well, he'd ask her after they took care of whatever was wrong. She'd scared the hell out of him on the phone, crying and what not. This had to be bad. Hermione wasn't one to use dramatics. The whole way here, he'd been shaking. The cab driver kept asking if he was cold or scared of storms and other nonsense. He'd finally snapped at him to mind his own business. He'd left a big tip, though, because he felt bad afterward.

He started towards the building, happy to get out of the rain. He went up the stairs like Hermione had said to, and to the first door to the left. It was open, so he left himself in.

The whole place was dark. He flipped the switch and looked around but the room was empty. The roomed seemed strange, and stale. Like something was lingering in the air. Just hovering and waiting, like the ghost of a mood. He didn't like it at all. He wanted to leave but he moved forward instead.

As he walked towards the hall, he was hit by a wave of something else. Terror and sadness. He'd never been the kind to since things, but he was picking up things left and right. It was like discarded emotions were laying around like dirty clothes.

"Hermione?" he called. There was a rustle in the room straight ahead. "Hermione?"

"In here," called a weak voice. It didn't even sound like Hermione. His stomach tightened up and he walked quickly to the room, pushing open the door.

He gasped and ran forward.

"Oh my God, Hermione, how long have you been like this?"

She licked her dry lips, "This morning," she said.

Harry looked down at her. She looked tiny and white, and shinny. Her eyes were so red that it was creepy. Her lips were cracked and colorless. Her body seemed limp, like she couldn't move it. Like her bones were all broken.

He pulled the bag off his back and dumped it onto the bed.

"I brought all of them," he explained, "I didn't know where we'd find it. I don't remember learning about anything like this, but you never know."

She nodded, and flicked her fingers. "Let me have one," she said hoarsely. Harry handed her the lightest, smallest one and watched her start paging through. He tore his eyes away, and buried them in the next book. 

"If you look in the index, it lists symptoms," Hermione offered. Harry nodded and turned to the back. His eyes were scanning but his head was else where. He wanted to know what had happened to her, but he knew he didn't have time to ask. They had to act now.

"Stomach pain, nausea." she murmured. Her realized what she was telling him. 

"Oh, right. And what else?"

"Body aches, um. Headache too. I'm really hot too, but sometimes I get cold. And chills. And kind of a burning feeling inside."

Harry nodded, scanning. Burning? That sounded familiar, He tossed the book he had aside and grabbed another. He quickly flipped to the back and found what he was looking for. He ran his finger over to the page number and flipped the pages.

"Hermione," he said, looking up.

She looked up as well, red eyes focusing on him. Her pupils looked small.

"When this spell was put on you, did you see a lot of light, and feel really hot?"

"Yeah!" she said, almost excitedly.

Harry looked down at the book and read. "And did you wake up feeling nauseas, and overly emotional?"

Hermione blushed a little, if possible, and nodded.

"Ok. Vomiting? Head ache? Chills? Locked joints?"

"Yes, yes, yes, and yes."

"Confusion?"

"Definitely."

"Ok, uh, burning feeling? We got that, right?"

She nodded again. Harry shook his head, "Then this has to be it! The Fuoco

curse." His hands were shaking as he held the book up to her, "Right? Is that right?"

Her eyes were moving along the page and she was nodding, then she was suddenly overcome with chills. She pushed the book away. "Just…just do the counter curse."

Harry took the book in his hands, then stood up. He licked his lips nervously. What if he messed up? He felt the pressure weigh him down. Slowly, he let his eyes fall on the counter curse. Fumbling with his coat, he pulled out his wand. He ran over the words a few times, then looked up.

"Ok, ready?" he asked. Hermione didn't say anything. Well, it was probably a dumb question anyway. He raised his wand, and checking the words again, he preformed the spell. 

White smoke flew from the tip of his wand and surrounded Hermione, turning pink as it swirled around her. She sighed and closed her eyes, going limp. Her body hovered up slightly, pulling the sheets up around her. Her arms went straight out and her fingers wiggled. The smoke turned purple, then blue, then suddenly collected at her head and whooshed down her body. She convulsed once, then slowly floated back down to the bed, wavering from side to side like a falling feather. It was over.

. Her lips moved open and the last of the pink smoke twirled up out of her mouth. Her eyes opened once, and then closed. She was sleeping heavily, he could tell. Harry slumped down beside her, running his hands through her hair, feeling relieved. It seemed to have worked, and if all went well, she'd be ok in a few hours.

But what the hell had happened to her? Who had put such and awful curse on her? She'd looked damn near death a few minutes ago, and he wouldn't have been surprised if she was. Thankfully she'd called him, but if not.

Who knows.

Turning away, he rose up and looked around. The room felt better now. Not like when he'd gotten here. He walked over to the closet, and opened the doors. Muggle clothes, mostly black. But did a Muggle live here? It didn't make sense, but as he looked around, he saw no signs of anything indicating a wizard or witch residing.

And this certainly couldn't be Hermione's place. The decorating was too formal. Formal but sparse, he noticed. Like some hadn't been living here long.

Suddenly curious, he walked out into the living room. He started going through all the cupboards and closets, looking for anything to identify the owner of this house, or tell him why whoever lived here wasn't here. But there was hardly anything. He moved to the bathroom. A lot of hair products, but no make up. An extremely vain male? Well, he only knew one of those and Hermione defiantly wouldn't be hanging out with him, nor would he be hanging out with her.

Scratching his head in the mirror, he took one more glance around before leaving. He guessed he could look in the kitchen, but he didn't know what would be in there. He was surprised, however, to find a batch of mashed up pancakes, and skillets still on the stove. In fact, the oven was still on, like someone had been interrupted.

He turned the oven off, then checked the fridge. A lot of food. Weird foods too, like who ever lived here liked to cook. There was also a bottle of wine shoved in the far back. Hmm. What was that for? Could it be for Hermione? Was this a male friends house? 

On impulse, he wanted to shove the notion aside. Hermione with a lover? It didn't seem likely. But then, neither did someone attacking her. He was obviously out of the loop here.

He shut the fridge and started towards the cupboards, but something stopped him in his tracks. He dropped his eyes to the floor, where a piece of parchment was laying. Not regular paper. It was fancy, thick, home made stuff. The kind they had at Hogwarts. Could this be a wizards house?

He picked it up, first looking at the back for a name. But it said nothing. He flipped it to the front and nearly jumped at what he saw. 

Draco.

This letter was to Draco.

He ran back to the room, holding the letter. He looked at Hermione, still sleeping. He looked back at the letter, reading it quickly. Then reading it again. He dropped to the bed, running his hand through he messy hair. He looked at Hermione.

"You and Draco?" he asked her, not expecting an answer. He shook his head. "What did you get into?" he asked her.

*~*~*

The cab arrived late, nearly midnight. It was still pouring rain as the Grangers got out, holding hands. Harry met them at the door to the apartment, holding the sleeping Hermione. Mr. Granger held out his arms, and took his daughter. He looked down at her, then too his wife. They exchanged looks of confusion and concern.

Both turned to Harry, smiling and thanking him. Then the three dashed out into the rain, ducking into the yellow cab. It pulled away from the curb at exactly midnight, Harry saw, watching the clock. Hermione stirred, clenching her fist and then letting go. Her lips moved, and her lashes fluttered, but she didn't open her eyes.

Then she said something quietly, that sounded suspiciously like `Draco'. The Granger's didn't notice, but Harry did.

*~*~*

Draco watched out the window, watching the rain pour down over the grounds. It was starting to get muddy and ugly. 

Her turned back, looking around his room. His old room. It didn't feel like his anymore. This whole place seemed unfamiliar. Like something out of a bad dream he had once. Someplace he was sure couldn't really exist.

He was still in his Muggle clothes. It was pissing off his parents. One of the only pleasures he'd had sense he got here. He tried to smile, feel good about something, but his face wouldn't move. He was so tense.

He'd tried not to think about it. Tried hard. The bottle of Rum he'd pulled from the shelf on his way to his room was half drained, and his cup with tossed on the floor. It hadn't helped. Now he just had a headache, and he wasn't feeling any more mellow.

He paced around his bed. Don't think about it! He commanded himself, as if he could keep her face from appearing in his thoughts. God, was she ok? She could be dead. Sick. Hurt. All alone.

Did she wonder where he was? Would she understand what had happened? What would she think if she did? What would she think he should do?

He so much wanted to just give up. Just give in to his parents. Maybe he couldn't escape them. Maybe they were right, and all he was meant to be was a Malfoy.

Before all this, maybe he would have given in. After all, what else did he have? But now he had something more. He'd had a glimpse of another life. Another possible destiny.

If he was na‹ve, he may have thought he was in love. But that was just ridiculous.

*~*~*

"Harry?"

"Hmmm?"

"Could you wake up. I want to talk to you."

Hermione moved back as Harry sat up on the couch where he was sleeping. He blinked at her and grabbed his glasses from the floor. He looked her over and smiled, gasping.

"Hermione, you look good!" he exclaimed.

Hermione winked at him and purred, "Well, thank you."

Harry blushed, "No, I meant.Well, you know what I meant."

Hermione slide down the arm on the couch, plopping next to Harry. "Yeah, I do. Anyway, are you ready to hear this?"

Harry nodded, "Couldn't be worse than what I'm suspecting."

"What are you suspecting?" Hermione asked, tilting her head.

Harry half turned away and laughed, "I don't know. It's probably crazy. But I found this note, and I thought."

"That I'm with Malfoy?" she asked tentatively. Her stomach did a flip flop as she watched his expression changed. She didn't want to say this. Not after all he'd done for her last night. But she had to. She owed him an explanation. "Well, I am. I mean, was."

Two different emotions battled over Harry's expression for a moment. It was about what Hermione expected. He was angry, but he wanted to support her. He struggled a few more minutes, before squeaking out "Why?"

"I don't know, Harry. I know we hate him. I hated him so much. But now." she shook her head, "He did something bad to me, and I did something bad back. I saw a different side of him after that. He's not so tough. He's not so invincible. He's a real guy. He has feelings."

"Are you sure he's not using you? Hermione, You didn`t."

Hermione felt like she was stabbing Harry in the heart. She looked over at the boy who'd been her best friend since she met him on the first train ride to Hogwarts. And yet, a lot had happened between them by now. And there was a lot she hadn't shared with him in the last year. She was suddenly feeling very guilty.

"If anyone was using anyone, it was me using him. In the beginning-"

"Oh my God." Harry stood up and turned away, then turned back quickly. "Look, `Mione, I love you and all. And I want to support what you're doing, but this doesn't sound right! Maybe it's too soon for me to start saying things. You were just sick and-"

"Harry!" Hermione was standing too, "I'm not weak. I'm fine and healthy and fully able to take whatever you have to say to me!"

"Don't get mad, `Mione. This just doesn't sound right to me!"

"Harry, there's a lot you don't know."

"Well it sounds like it!"

"Just listen. Draco isn't who you think he is."

"Oh, and you would know?" Harry quipped.

Hermione went red, "I ought to. Better than you anyway."

Harry shook his head and looked down at her, "I just can't believe you would.would go down on-"

Hermione blushed further, feeling her stomach tie up. She suddenly felt her stomach symptoms from last night rush back. Before she thought better of it, she blurted, "Do you think I'm a slut, Harry. Is that what you thought when we-"

"NO!" He screamed. He ran his hand through his black hair, "No, no, no. That was just a mistake and-"

"A mistake? Great. You know what, fuck you Harry!" she screamed hoarsely. Before he could answer she flung herself down the hall into her bedroom and slammed the door. She turned the lock quickly before tossing herself onto the bed. Before she could stop them, the tears were flowing.

God, she felt pathetic! She had been so sure that she had this all figured out, but now everything was a mess again. She couldn't help but feel she'd done wrong. Harry was mad and Draco was gone. She'd really fucked up this time. 

Hermione wasn't used to messing up. She hated the feeling. She hated to disappoint anyone, or hurt anyone. The thought of it made her want to be sick. She wasn't supposed to make mistakes. She knew better. She was smarter than that.

She though that she'd been doing right, but she'd obviously deluded herself. Maybe Harry was right and Draco was using her. Maybe she was a slut. Look how she'd been acting. Like a hormonal little girl. This was the same thing that had got her into the situation with Harry last-

No, she wasn't even going to think of that. She'd already spent ample time feeling horrible for it. And right now, she had more than enough to feel appalled about. 

The was a knock at the door.

"Hermione," Harry said through the door, "Look, I'm sorry. That came out wrong. Please open the door."

Hermione didn't answer, but she sat up to listen, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Hermione." She heard him take a deep breath. She imagined he was running his hand through his hair right now. He always did that when he was upset. 

She still waited. He was silent a minute, before shifting close to the door.

"Can you hear me in there? I said I'm sorry."

She half laughed. Harry always thought thing were easily fixed. It was cute sometimes, in a sad way.

She rose off of the bed and went to the door, waiting another minute just to stress him further, then finally opened the door a crack.

Harry stared back at her sheepishly. "Can I come in?" he asked.

Hermione moved back and swung the door open, staring. She waited for him to talk, knowing he wouldn't if she did.

After staring at her for a minute and rocking on his heels uncomfortably, he said, "Hey, er.I want to support you, ok? I know that you aren't stupid and if you say Malfoy isn't so bad, then maybe he isn't. At least not to you. And if you want to date him, or marry him, or have his babies or whatever, that's fine with me."

Hermione giggled a bit and wiped her cheeks. Then she straightened and looked Harry in his eyes. Two emerald ringed green pools stared back.

"Really, Harry?" she asked.

He nodded, "Oh course. I'm sorry about before, I was just surprised. Now, do you think you can tell me what happened last night?"

Hermione nodded and sat down on the bed. Harry mad himself comfortable as well, and Hermione launched into the story. She'd already told her parents a doctored version this morning, before insisting they go to work and not worry about her. Harry listened just as intently, shaking his head she finished.

"That's bad, Herm. For you and him. Do you have any clue what's been going on between Malfoy and his dad?"

Hermioen shook her head, "He never mentioned it. But he was acting weird. I mean, when he read that letter he just turned white. Like, went completely blank."

"And you have no clue what happened after you were attacked?"

"No, I don't remember anything. For all I know, Draco could be dead," she shrugged, "Or on the other hand, he may have left willingly. There's really no way to know."

*~*~*

Weeks passed, and those words finally settled over Hermione. Her own words. Draco could be dead, or he could have left willingly. He could be a prisoner. Anything was possible. It looked as if she wasn't going to find out. There was no way to know.

So she did the only thing she could do. She went back to normal as best she could. Harry went back home after two weeks, and continued to write her every few days, doing his best to be understanding. He'd told Ron, and while he answered her letters, his were always short and he avoided the subject of Draco all together. 

She went back to work, telling Jessie that Draco had an emergency at home and had to leave. Jessie didn't ask many questions. Hermione thought she could somehow sense that something had happened that Hermione didn't want to talk about. She was grateful that Jessie didn't push it.

At home, her parents were curious about what had happened, and a little weary of Draco. They didn't know she'd slept with him, of course. She told them she'd just gone to see him early that morning. She tried to explain about his parents, but her parents didn't seem to understand. She finally gave up, just put on a smiling face whenever she saw them so they wouldn't worry.

But inside, she wasn't smiling. She couldn't sleep anymore. She had anxiety attacks at night, and sometimes nightmares. During the day she felt cold, lonely and out of touch. But she just kept on living. What other choice did she have?

She didn't hope for much. She wouldn't let herself imagine seeing Draco. She wanted to be numb. 

And after a while, she was.

*~*~*

"He's been like that ever since he came home. They don't want anyone to know what happened while he was away, but I suspect the worst," Pansy's mother chattered to another witch. Pansy stood close by, trying to look bored but listening all the same.

"Well, I don't know for sure, but I heard he destroyed his." the other women lowered her voice, "his mark, you know? And I heard something about a Mudblood girl."

Pansy's mother excitedly set aside her champagne glass and moved closer, "I wasn`t going to say anything, but it seems as if you already know. I heard that he had a relationship with a Mudblood from Hogwarts. The two of them were together when dear old Lucius found them. That poor man. His son gives him so much trouble. I honestly don't know why he bothers.That Draco is a hopeless cause."

Pansy's mother continued gossiping but Pansy was slowly moving away. She bit her lip and brushed back her hair, stopping to looking in the mirrored walls of the Malfoy's ballroom. After a quick adjusting of her robe, making sure her cleavage was in full view, she turned to where Draco was standing across the room, staring into a half empty cup of vodka. He wasn't actually drinking at all, she noticed. Which was weird, because Draco was always a party boy at Hogwarts.

Her mother was right, he'd been acting weird since he got back from wherever his father had sent him. But Pansy didn't agree with the statement that Draco was a hopeless cause. No, she was sure he wasn't. 

Something that amazing looking could never be a lost cause.

Pansy tossed her head back and caught her grinning reflection in the mirror. Her mother said she looked stunning tonight, and Pansy agreed. There was no way Draco would be able to say no to her tonight.

*~*~*

"Gotta have faith." Draco murmured to himself, swirling his drink around. "Yeah, you gotta have faith."

"Draco?"

His head shot up, hair falling into his eyes. His mom tried to make him slick it back. He didn't. He also hadn't shaved in the past few days, and it had taken all of twenty house elves to drag him into the bathtub after he'd run cursing down the Grande Hall bare ass naked. It was a shame, because before that, he hadn't bathed in days. Damn, if they hadn't washed him, no one would be bothering him right now.

He looked up.

Oh damn. Pansy.

"Oh, Pansy. Well don't you look." Like a cheep whore, he thought, eying her ample chest jiggling out of the plunging neckline of a sparking, clingy lavender robe. "Classy." he finished with a half smile.

"Thank you," she purred, moving closer, "I must say, you look even better than I remember. I missed you, you know."

"Mmm, really?"

"Yeah. Just the other day I was thinking of that time that we went drinking in the dungeon, and you li-"

"Yeah, well, I was drunk," Draco cut her off. He was already shuddering at the vague memory. 

"Well drink up, and maybe we can try it again," she said boldly and loudly. 

Draco took a deep breath and moved passed her, "I don't think so."

He moved quickly to the doors out to the hall. Damn it, what the hell was wrong with that girl? Over the years, he'd made it more than clear that he was in no way interested in her, but still she persisted. It wasn't that she wasn't good looking. She had once been a bit pudgy and smooshy-faced. But that had proved to be just a stage. All her fat seemed to migrate up to the chest area, and though her face wasn`t stunning, with make up she passed as pretty. Draco knew lot of guys who pitched a tent every time she wiggled by. She wasn't at a loss for admirers. He didn't know why the hell she had to bother him.

He dodged out of the room, took quick strides down the hall and plopped a seat in the half hidden coat room. He leaned back against a furry wrap and pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket. Another thing he'd done was dressed as a Muggle tonight. He'd ordered his suit a week and a half ago, the day his mother told him about this stupid party she was planning for him. She said she wanted him to socialize with his old friends again.

He looked around the coat room. Well, it looked like that idea was a bomb.

He flicked his lighter, also a Muggle contraption, just as the door to the room creaked open.

"Pansy, what in hell-" he sputtered, leaping up and backing against the wall.

"Oh, I didn't know you'd be in here," she said.

Like hell, you didn't, he thought. 

"I kind of wanted to be alone," he said.

Pansy's eyes widened in surprise, then a smile broke out over her face. Oh shit, she'd misunderstood.

"No, wait." he stammered, but Pansy was already two inches from his face.

She let out a breath . It smelled like smoke and champagne. "Draco," she said in a smooth as honey voice, "I always hoped.Well lets just say I've dreamed about this happening."

In a coat room, he wondered, but said nothing. He was rather at a loss for what to do at the moment.

Then Pansy worsened the situation by taking a step back and letting the straps of her dress slide off her shoulders. Before Draco could move, her dress slide down her body, revealing impossibly full breasts and a tiny g-string pulled over lushly curved hips. Draco's body reacted treasonously.

Pansy took his hands, causing him to drop the cigarette, and placed them on her breasts. Her nipples hardened under his palms and she gasped girlishly.

No, no, this wasn't right. But his hands were moving over her body. Stop! His mind screamed, but his lips latched onto her neck. She leaned back and squealed, running her hands down his chest. Not one to play coy, she grabbed his half erect package in one hand, making him moan in response.

"Oh, baby, you want me," she said.

No, I don't! he thought.

Zip. His pants were at his knees and Pansy's hand was wrapped around his hardened dick. Hermione flashed through his mind. Her face in her moment of ecstasy. Draco's breath came short. Pansy's fingers gripped him, sliding up and down quickly. He remembered Hermione doing the same, only Hermione knew just where to touch, just where to squeeze. Just where to taste.

Pansy's lips came down over him, engulfing him completely. God. It felt so nice to feel something warm around him. His own cold fingers just weren't doing the trick lately. But this wasn't right. He didn't want her. Not Pansy. But would he ever even see Hermione again?

Oh God, even if he didn't, he owed her more than this. If he ever got a chance with her again, he wanted to do it right this time. 

He jerked back, away from Pansy.

"No, stop," he panted.

"What? WHY?" she asked, in apparent shock.

"I don't.I don't like you that way," he said, chastening himself for sounding like a twelve year old.

"Well, you don't have to. I just want to." Pansy moved forward again, but Draco jumped back so fast that he nearly tripped.

"No, no," he grabbed at hi s pants, yanking them up, "You deserve better than what I can give you, Pansy."

"What," she said, tears gathering in her eyes.

"No, don't cry. Don't, Pansy. It's not you. I think you're very pretty."

"Then why?" she sobbed, black lines of make up trailing down her face.

"There's more to this stuff than looks," he struggled to explain, "There's.There's."

"It's her isn't it," Pansy cried.

Draco stopped, pulling his belt tight. "What?"

"Her. Your Mudblood."

"My who? What the hell. Who told you that," he demanded, grabbing her arms. "Who?!"

Pansy just sobbed more pathetically, "Everyone is talking about it."

"Who's everyone?" Draco's mind was racing. Did they all know? Did they know who it was? Did they know where she was? Would they hurt her? Kill her? Oh God. Oh God.

"Everyone! Stop, Draco, you're hurting my arms."

Draco let go, pushing Pansy aside. He kicked over a pile of coats stumbling towards the door. A hand pulled him back.

"Draco, wait. Don't go," Pansy sniffled. Draco carefully pried her fingers from his Muggle jacket and tossed the fur wrap he'd been leaning on at her.

"Here, cover up, babe," he said, and then he slipped out of the room.

*~*~*

".And look at how he's dressed. It's sick, really. It's all because of that girl."

"I guess she goes to his school. I don't know why they let those damn Mudblood's into Hogwarts anyway."

"I always though there was something wrong with that boy, and now he's gone and proved it. He isn't one of us."

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. He hadn't been paying attention before, but they were all talking about him! They all knew! But how? Would his mother-

Then he spotted her, standing around a group of women in ridiculously gaudy dress robes. He couldn't hear her, but he saw her mouth his name. Then, Hermione's. She said her name! They all shook their heads. Oh God! How could his mother DO that? He knew she was an evil bitch, but she was his MOTHER for God's sake! He would never have thought she would do this.

Before he knew what he was doing, he screamed out loud, something along the lines of `STUPID, FRIGID, CUNTLESS BITCH!', storming up to her.

She looked up in surprise, eyes wide like `a deer in headlights'. Hermione said that once and Draco didn't get it, but he did now. 

"Draco, what on-"

"Why did you tell them!" he demanded. "WHY?"

"Draco, lower your voice," she warned sternly. God, she didn't get this at all.

"No! Mother. Do you know what you've done? Do you even care?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, raising herself up and trying to look dignified while her son was acting crazy. 

Draco fumbled with his sleeve, "You.You told them. Everyone. Couldn't you do one thing for me? You are my MOTHER!" Finally, he managed to yank his wand from his coat sleeve. His mother's friends screamed, and everyone in the room turned to watch. His mother, however, remained calm.

"And just what did I tell them, Draco?" she asked.

Draco pressed his lips together, fighting tears of frustration, "You told them her name!"

A strange smile played on his mother's lips, "You mean I told them about Hermione Granger? Your Mudblood? Why so worried, son. Do you think we'd.hurt.her?"

That was it. They way she said it, he knew they'd already done something, or planned it. All his emotions surged through him at once, confusing him, disabling him. He couldn't think of one thing except the hex his father had used on him and Hermione. He raised his wand and shouted the spell.

But just before he could say the last syllable, someone crashed down on top of him, grabbing his wand. Then came a whole pile of people. The dragged him up, holding his hands behind him, yanking him towards the door. He kicked and screamed at his mother.

"I hate you!" he yelled, "I hate all of you!"

His father was suddenly beside him, simply shaking his head. Another group of men lifted his feet from the ground so he couldn't kick. He screamed to be let down, his face burning in rage and humiliation, his head spinning. Then he saw Pansy, by the hall door, surrounded by other wizards. His father nodded at her and that's when he understood. Pansy had told them. Warned them. He truly was alone here. Everyone who he had once held as a friend at least, was now an enemy.

"Fuck you!" he sputtered at Pansy. She looked down at the ground, almost ashamed. They carried him out of the ballroom, into the hall, and only then did he realize they weren't carrying him in the direction of his room.

"Where am I going?" he screamed. He was answered by grave, answerless faces.

"Answer me!" he cried, panicked, but no one listened. Just kept walking. He struggled to get his head up, to see. And he did. He saw the door to the dungeons. He saw them being opened. Then he saw nothing.


	10. The Politics of a Lap Dance

Author's Note: Hey kids, it's time for another chapter. I apologize for how long it's been taking me to get these out, but the idea aren't coming to me as fast as they used to. Once I'm back in school and more is going all, I'll probably have more inspiration to write. Currently, I'm unsure of how much longer this story will be, but because I'm having so much fun with it, I'm gonna try and stretch it out. This chapter was especially fun, and you'll see why. Anyway, thank all of you for being so patient with me and for leaving such wonderful reviews. They really keep me going. 

"Oh, baby, you want me?

Well, you can have this lap dance here for free."

~ 'Lap Dance' by NERDS

Hermione awoke with a start, bathed in sweat. She fumbled with the lamp beside her bed, finally getting it on, eyes stung by the dim light. She collapsed back against the head board with her arms at her sides. She took deep breaths into her lower lungs, like the book had said. Count five in. Hold five. Let out five.

A minute later, she was still feeling sick but no longer completely panicked. She was used to this. It happened nearly every night now. But this one was different. She'd had a dream. A dream about Draco.

Not that that was uncommon, but again, this one was different. It was so real. Not the usual mesh of thoughts, fantasies and fears all swirled together into something cryptic. This was simple.

It was dark. Draco was in the dark. Someplace hard and cold. He was curled against a wall, wearing a Muggle suit (Ok, that was a little odd). And he was thinking….she could hear him thinking. He was scared. He thought he was going crazy. He was having obsessive thoughts. Then he started to mutter 'I've killed her. Its my fault. I killed Hermione.' Right then he rose up and ran to something hard. He pounded his fists and screamed to be let out. No one was answering. He bashed his fist into the wall, and there was an explosion of red and a loud, mechanical howling and she woke. 

Hermione shivered. Why did that dream seem so real? It didn't make sense.

She pulled her legs up to her chest, still shaking. She felt weird. Her own room felt eerie to her. She quickly rose and stepped out onto her balcony. It was still very warm out. Summer was coming to an end quickly, and she was starting to wonder if she'd see Draco at school. If she did, what would it be like?

Right now she didn't think she would. She wasn't psychic, and she could stand any of that nonsense that Professor Treelawnie talked about. But right now she felt sure that something was wrong. Like she had just before she was attacked.

She sucked a breath into her lungs. It seemed hard. Her chest seemed crushed by some weight.

"Where are you Draco," she said, and to her surprise, her breath made a cloud.

*~*~*

A crack of light appeared and there was the sound of metal on stone. When the light disappeared, Draco approached, finding a plate of food. Oh shit, they really weren't going to let him out.

God, what had he done? He had really lost it. He'd even tried to kill his own mother. Or hurt her anyway. He wasn't really sure how powerful that particular curse was...it hadn't killed him. But he'd taken the chance. He knew something very bad would happen once he muttered those words.

He slowly sat down on the floor, gasping for breath. His own thoughts seemed dizzying. Crazy. Insane. Demented. He wasn't right. Something inside him was off. He could make sense of his feelings or emotions. He couldn't act on them the right way. He didn't even know why he'd done what he'd done. He'd just been so overcome…

He pressed his lips together and curled up. He wanted to cry or scream but instead he just sat and stared, thinking, trying to make sense of himself. Outside his door, they were agree to his own diagnosis. 

Draco was crazy, they were saying. They all shook their heads. They had seen it coming. Anyone who could love a Mudblood had to crazy.

*~*~*

"Hello, Harry? Is that you? I can't hear you over the yelling!"

Hermione sat on her bed, dressed in her robe, still damp from her shower, phone to her ear. A warm patch of sunlight spread across her bed like a blanket. She didn't feel so sunny.

"Yes, it's me. I … hang on," there was a pause, and then Harry bellowed, "DUDLEY, IF YOU AND YOUR STUPID BAND DON'T MOVE TO ANOTHER ROOM I'LL TURN THE LOT OF YOU INTO INDIVIDUAL TUBES OF YEAST INFECTION TREATMENT CREAM!" Another pause, and a shuffle, and Harry was back, "Sorry about that 'Mione. Dudley's started his own horrid little rock band. What was it that you wanted?"

"Uh, well, I had a dream last night. It's got me kind of worried," she started, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Yeah, well what was it about," Harry asked.

"Well. Draco. He was in a bad place, and he was starting to think he'd gone mental. And then he started to say he'd killed me, or something. I know it sounds stupid Harry, but it seemed so real!"

"It doesn't sound stupid to me, Hermione. Remember, I've been having weird dreams since forever. And some of them have turned out to be true…"

"You don't think this one could be, do you?"

"Do you think it is?"

Hermione sighed, "I really don't know, but it has got me worried. I mean, it kind of embodies all my fears. I don't know what happened to him. What if he's being held prisoner or something. I…" her voice started to rise and she tried to control it, "I'm just scared."

"I know, baby. I understand. I wish there was more I could do for you. Have you talked to anyone else?"

"Who would I talk to," Hermione asked miserably, "My parents? Ron? I don't think so."

"Why not Ron?"

"He's still uneasy with the idea of me and Draco being together. He doesn't even want to talk about it. He barely answers my letters."

Harry paused, "Well, have you thought about going to see him? Right now, I'll bet he feels a bit betrayed. But if you were there to show him things would still be the same between all of us…"

"I don't know. I would like to get out of my house for a while though."

"So lets do it. I'll call Ron and we can fly up together," Harry suggested.

"I guess I could ask."

"Great! Call me back. I REALLY need to get away from the Dursley's and Dudley's god awful 'band'"

Hermione smiled to herself, "Ok then. I'll se you."

She hung up the phone, feeling slightly better. Maybe getting away was just what she needed right now. Maybe she could leave her troubles behind her, concentrate on having a good time with her old friends, like the old days.

Tears stung her eyes. The old days. There was a time before all this. She missed those days. It was so easy then. A vision of Draco smiling in bed flashed through her mind in slow motion. She pushed it away, wiping her cheeks and going to her closet.

*~*~*

A week later, Hermione awoke quite the same way she had a few days ago, only this time she was in the extra bed in Ginny's room. She gasped for air, meanwhile someone else was fumbling around in the room.

The light came on. Ginny was standing by the lamp, looking groggy and concerned.

"Hermione? You screamed. What happened?" she asked in a froggy voice. She moved towards Hermione's bed.

"I had a dream," Hermione said, still trying to catch her breath.

"Like before?" Ginny asked. They'd just stayed up late that night, discussing the whole Draco issue. Ginny was a fantastic listener and a great supporter, just what Hermione had needed. She was so grateful to have another girl to talk to about this.

"Yeah," she answered, tossing her blankets aside, feeling hot and sweaty. She tugged at her tank top. "It was pretty much the same as last time. God, they make me feel so sick. He seems so lost. I hope to god these aren't real. I really do."

Ginny put her arm around Hermione just as the door swung open. Ron stood, wearing a pair of too short boxers, his hair sticking mostly strait up, except for being completely flat plastered to his face in front.

"What's goin' on," he demanded sleepily. Harry came up behind him, stumbling without his glasses, but looking somewhat more put together than Ron.

"Hermione had a dream," Ginny said.

"Ooooh. About HIM right?" Ron asked, entering the room. He eyed Hermione, reminding her that all she was wearing was a t-shirt and a pair of panties. She crossed her legs and pulled the blanket over her lap.

"Yeah. Him," she said, sadly. She casts her eyes to the ground, all too aware of the discomfort of this situation. Her friends hated this boy that she was so obsessed with. How could they ever understand what she was feeling. It made her feel ill.

"There's got to be something we can do," Harry said suddenly, slamming his fist into his hand. Everyone's head turned, all eyes on him, staring. "This is bullshit, not knowing what happened to him. It's tearing Hermione up. There has got to be a way to find out where he is."

"What are you gonna do? Call all of our mutual friends, Harry?" Ron asked sarcastically. Ginny hit him in the arm, "Ow! What! It's true. We can't just ask around."

"Why not? Could we call one of his friends?" Ginny asked. She tucked a strand of stick straight, coppery hair behind her ear.

"Ron is right. They probably won't ever talk to us," Hermione said.

"What if we forced them to tell us? What if we went to their houses and cornered them or something," Harry offered.

"Yeah, or better yet, why don't we just show up at the Malfoy Mansion, huh?" Ron quipped sarcastically.

"Wait! Why not? Why can't we go there?" Harry asked excitedly.

"Uh, Harry do you recall what happened to me when Draco's dearest Daddy met me?" Hermione asked. "I think we could expect a less than warm welcome."

"Oh. Right."

Silence.

Suddenly, Ginny's face lifted, "What if we snuck in?"

"How?"

Ginny blushed, and everyone cast a puzzled look. She half smiled and then stuttered, "I…I dated this guy from Slytherine…" she started.

"YOU TRAITOR!" Ron bellowed, then looked to Hermione, "No offense to you."

"Shut up, Ron," Ginny quipped. "It was only for like a week anyway. He was really dim. But he told me about this thing. This end of the summer party he goes to at the Malfoy's every year."

"How would we get into that?"

"Well, there is this thing they do. It's kind of sick, but they get a kick out of it," Ginny wrinkled her nose, "They hire all these Muggle strippers, you know. They let them perform and have a good time, and then when it's all over, they scare the hell out of them. Perform all kinds of hexes and conjure up monsters, and that sort of thing."

"And they think that's a good time?" Rona asked, astonished.

"I guess. Afterwards they knock them all out and perform and memory spell, then leave them out in a field or something. But think about, wouldn't that be the perfect way to get in? There are going to be tons of girls there. And we could dress up, wear masks or something. Pretend we think it's kinky. They'd never spot us. We could sneak off during the chaos and find Malfoy."

"I am not dressing up like a stripper," Harry said firmly.

"Not you, stupid. Me and Hermione!" Ginny snapped. Harry's face lightened, then reddened as a huge smile came over his face.

"Ooooh! Oh! Well, yeah, that sounds good. What would you wear? Like, G-strings or what?"

Ron smacked Harry in his chest, "Shut it! That's my sister your talking about, you sick fuck!"

"Sorry," Harry murmured. 

Ginny stood up, "Stop making jokes about this. I'm serious. It could work."

"Or it could horribly backfire," Hermione piped in. 

"How badly do you want to see him?" Ginny asked, looking straight at Hermione. Hermione's insides burned, her skin went cold and her mind filled with every hope and fantasy she'd had since she last saw him.

She didn't answer. She couldn't. But Ginny understood. 

"So we've got to try it," Ginny said. Everyone nodded slowly.

"One problem," Ron added, "You two aren't strippers."

*~*~*

"Alright, now put your hands on your knees and just kinda move it around in a circle."

"I feel stupid."

"Come on, 'Mione! Give us a show!"

Ginny caught Hermione as she launched angrily at Ron. "Calm down. Ron, you shut it."

"I'm sorry. This is just so priceless. In a million years, I would never have thought I'd see Hermione doing this."

"I will kill you, Ron," Hermione snapped.

Ginny lead her away. Both were standing front of the couch in the den. Harry and Ron were seated on the couch, wide eyes, both drinking butter beer and in extremely good moods. In the corner were two bags from a Muggle lingerie store, inside were the costumes. On the coffee table, was a Muggle music player, that Hermione called a CD player. And in it was a CD of "rap" music. Ginny hit the button, and music blared in the room. 

Ron nodded his head as the first verse started, "Yeah! I like this. Good beat."

Harry tapped his foot and moved his elbows, "Yeah, it sure makes ME want to dance. How about you ladies?"

"Ignore them," Ginny said. "Now, get back it to position. Kinda, bend over I guess. Hands on your knees. Now rotate. Faster. No…roll it. You're too jerky."

Hermione stood up, her face bright red, "I can't do this!" she whined.

"Back that ass up!" Ron shouted, mimicking the song. 

"Ron, if you don't stop I'll make you leave!" Ginny shouted. Ron just giggled.

Ginny turned back to Hermione, offering a sympathetic grin. Hermione couldn't help but feel less than friendly towards the red head at the moment though. It really wasn't anything Ginny did, except know how to dance. She made it look easy. She moved perfectly, moving and sliding and jiggling in all the right places. Hermione herself looked like she was having some kind of seizer. 

Ginny fixed the mirror she'd set up. She back up and put her hands on her hips. "Lets start with something easier. Get warmed up, ok?" she asked. Hermione just nodded and sighed.

"Ok, hands on your hip," Ginny instructed. Hermione did as she was told. Ginny smiled, "Ok now just move your hips in a circle. That's all. Start out slow."

Hermione started to move her hips in a circle, feeling foolish. She could see Ron and Harry on the couch behind her with huge grins on their faces. Ignore them, she thought. This is for Draco. Think of Draco.

That was good. That made it easier. She started to imagine him in bed, the way he moved. Slow and predatory. That how she needed to be. Slow. Seductive. Enticing.

"Good!" Ginny chirped. "Really good! Just imagine having sex. Think of how you move in bed and try to imitate that. You want to get these guys thinking about sex."

"Ginny how do you know all this?" Ron asked accusingly. Ginny shot him a look and he didn't say anything more. Instead, he looked to Harry who shrugged and looked away. Hermione knew that Ginny was a bit…promiscuous. But she wasn't about to tell Ron that, and neither was Harry apparently.

"Alright," Ginny said, pushing her flame colored hair back away from her face slowly. She trailed her hand down between her breasts, "You want to kinda touch yourself. Not too much, just a little bit. Make them image it's their hand. Torture them. Just ALMOST touch the hot spots. Run your hand along your thighs. Ok, goooood! Now, drop to the floor, but keep moving your hips…"

Ginny's instructions were started to be drowned out by Hermione's own thoughts. This plan could actually work. If they could pass for dancers, they'd be sure to get in. Getting out would be harder, but from what Ginny said, there who be so much chaos that no one would be paying too much attention to them.

The only hard part would be finding Draco. But Hermione felt confident that when the time came, she could locate him. She just had a good feeling. She could do this. She could do this!

She could get Draco back.

"Oh my God, 'Mione, you are so hot," Ron said, interrupting her thoughts. She smiled slyly, starting to feel less self conscious. She looked over to Ginny, who was gyrating to the Muggle music. She winked at Hermione, and stepped closer.

"Ok, now, dance up on me," she said quietly, her voice slightly husky. She looked to the boys, who hadn't heard.

"What?" Hermione mouthed.

"Trust me, guys love it," she said between her teeth, smiling widely. Before Hermione could consider that, she stepped closer and dropped to the ground at Hermione's feet, then slowly coiled her way back up. Harry cheered.

Alright, whatever, Hermione though. She turned away from Ginny and swung her hips and lifting her arms in the air. Ginny put her hands up and skimmed them down Hermione's arms, not really touching her, all the way to her waist. Hermione giggled, getting into it. She got it now. This was all a game. She closed her eyes, losing herself to the music, letting it move her. She and Ginny came together and parted, both giggling.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, and both boys rose, looked at each other, and joined in.

Hermione felt hands on her hips, and she turned, surprised to find Harry behind her. She swallowed and cast him a look, that she knew he understood. Her smiled back, green eyes soft, and slipped his hands around her waist and hugged her quickly.

"It's ok," he said.

Hermione smiled back. He was right. What happened between them was behind them both. She went back to dancing, grinning inwardly. Of all the mistakes she'd made this past year, Harry wasn't one of the worst. He was such a great guy. Such a great friend. He really wouldn't let anything come between them.

She looked around at everyone in the room. They were all great friends. They'd do anything for her, they'd proved that.

*~*~*

"I can't believe we're going through with this."

"We wont be if you don't quiet down. If Mum finds you two dressed like you are…I don't know what. But it'll be a big mess I'm not eager to explain my way out of," Ron said.

"Thanks again, all of you, for helping," Hermione said.

"Thank us AFTER this works," Harry said, sipping his drink and tapping his foot nervously. 

"I'm thankful that you at least tried, whether it works or not," Hermione insisted. "Now, how does this look?"

"I don't think you want me to answer that," Ron said, smiling nervously. They were all doing their best to keep the conversation light. No one wanted to admit that they were worried. Scared. Terrified, in Hermione case. This was it. She was really going to find out what happened to Draco. And if he'd deserted her, betrayed her, she was going to have to face that.

Hermione looked at Ginny. She looked amazing and put together. She was tall and thin, with a model's body and confidence. Her pale skin looked amazing in the black, crystal covered corset and panties she wore. Her legs looked endless in kitten heeled shoes. A long, fur lined trench coat was thrown over the bed, meant to cover her up. But Ginny wasn't one for modesty. She preferred to prance around in her skivvies. 

Hermione didn't feel so comfortable. She was wearing a similar black crystal bra top with matching hot pants in bright pink. She had the fur coat she'd bought from a thrift shop pulled tightly around her, though it didn't hide her fishnet clad legs or the knee high boots that she'd bought for the purpose of hiding her wand in. Because she'd had the little run in with Lucius, they'd decided it was best for her to disguise herself a little. They'd enchanted an old Halloween wig to be long and platinum blonde. Hermione thought she looked like Fleur the foreign exchange student for 4th year, which was not something she was all too excited about.

"Hermione, you look amazing, trust me," Ginny said, patting her on the back.

"I look like a slut," Hermione muttered.

"Well, that's good right?" Harry offered, trying to smile.

Hermione didn't answer, just fidgeted, and turned back to Ron. "Is it time?"

"According to what Ginny remembers, the party starts late. I wish we knew the exact time. But we don't, so we are gonna have to assume that arriving late is better than arriving early," Ron said.

"It's almost one," Hermione said weakly. She felt drained and sick. This plan was seeming crazier and crazier by the minute. Yesterday, it hadn't really seemed real. Today, the reality of it was unavoidable. She couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop obsessing. What if this and what if that. She wanted to just call the whole thing off, desperately. But it was too late now. She couldn't back down. Pride and curiosity wouldn't let her.

"I think we can go," Ginny said, picking up the coat off the bed. She pulled her little silk mask from the pocket and put it on. Hermione followed suit.

Hermione's stomach dropped violently. It's ok, she told herself, you want this. Think of Draco. Think of the dreams.

Harry nodded and stood, "I think so too," he said.

Ron looked to Hermione, who would only nod weakly. He shrugged, "If you're all ready. You sure we know we all know where we're coming out?"

Everyone nodded. Ron picked the floo powder off the counter and tossed it into the fire. Hermione felt her head swim. Oh God. Oh God. This is it. This is it! She was going to know. She was going to see him. She could die. She could live. She could be happy again. Anything. Anything could happen. She couldn't be scared. She had to do this.

Breathe, Hermione, just breathe.

Ron gestured towards the fireplace with a flourish, "Ladies first."

"Me first," Hermione said dryly. And before anyone could stop her, she entered the fire. Suddenly she was whooshing through the dark. Her hair flew back, snapping like a thousand whips. She felt exhilarated. She done it, she'd took the first step! Ok, concentrate. She had to find the right fireplace.

Suddenly she knew she was there. Oh God, it was so fast. Before she had time to consider 'accidentally' coming out at the wrong place, she was skidding across the wood floor of the servants quarters of THE Malfoy Mansion.

For a second she was alone, gasping, and filled with amazement. She could only blink and look. Then suddenly she was hit by a glittering orange fireball.

"Motherfuck!" Ginny sputtered, sprawled across Hermione's legs. Before either could move, two more body's were spat from the expansive fireplace.

"Geez, that's one vicious fireplace!" Ron said, sitting up form where he landed square on Harry's lap. He pulled Harry up with him. Harry adjusted his glasses which were sitting askew over his nose, "You can say that again."

Hermione stood, dumping Ginny off of her.

"Shh! Guys. Don't talk remember? Just go to your stations!" she snapped.

"If we can find them," Ron said loudly.

"Shhhh! Just go! Go outside and wait. Conjure up some brooms, we might not have time to get back here."

"What? That's not the plan!" Ro argued in a half whisper.

"It is now. Go!"

Ron and Harry both grumbled to each but did as the were commanded. Ginny turned to Hermione.

"Do you," she paused and lowered her voice, "Do you know how to get to the main living area?"

"Not really, but we'll just follow the noise. Come on."

The two doors crept off after Ron and Harry, who had already disappeared. Hermione wished they could all stay together, but she knew it wasn't possible. She and Ginny went up the stairs to the main level, coming out in the servants hall. The could immediately hear nose.

"This way," she mouthed to Ginny, as the both scrambled down the unlit hall. Luckily, no one seemed to be using it tonight. They peeked in a few doors but all they found were empty living quarters and a few closets. Hermione was puzzled. She could hear the music but she couldn't find a door that lead to anywhere where it was louder. She stopped in the hall and was just about to turn and say something to Ginny when two high pitched voices startled her to near tears. She grabbed Ginny and flung them both against a wall, praying they were lost in shadow.

She looked toward the noise and saw the wall at the end of the hall creak open. Two chattering house elves exited, holding empty dishes. They passed the girls with out noticing them, and Hermioen and Ginny watched them go down the stairs before dashing to the secret doorway. The music and talking was very audible from inside.

"Must be this way," she told Ginny. 

Inside was a short hall, ending in another trap door. As soon as Hermione cracked it open she knew they'd found the room. She nodded back to Ginny and both slipped out slowly.

The room was an oversized living room, with couches lined up on every wall, along with numerous buffet tables and such. The entire room was bustling with what appeared to be an entirely male crowd. The lights had all been enchanted to change from blue to red and purple in between. A few hundred glowing fairies were hanging around too, happily serving as decoration, all showing off and blinking and twirling.

Before she had time to consider where to hide until the rest of the strippers showed up, the lights flashed off twice and the room quieted. Then an excited buzz filled the room and the fairies began to scatter from their clusters, darting back and forth. A few of the wizards started to catcall as the lights started to flicker very quickly, mimicking strobe, and music blared. It was a song similar to the Muggle rap songs, only by a wizard band. 

Ginny squeezed Hermione's shoulder, "There they are," she said, pointed the a flood of girls who were entering, all dressed scantily. She grab Hermione's wrist and yanked her. Hermione pulled back a second, panicking, but Ginny was too strong. Before she knew it, she was in a sea of strippers, her ears filled with screams and growls and clapping. She could hardly see for the lights. She saw briefly a few platinum heads, and pink bra tops. She tried to see past, to the men. Was Malfoy here? Would he partake in this?

Before she could decide, the lyrics to the music started and suddenly the girls were scattering and dancing. Hermione spun in a circle, looking for Ginny but she was gone. Her mouth went dry. She couldn't do this without Ginny! Oh God…

She tried to dance but she was stiff and tense. She could barely hear the music over her own thoughts. She desperately tried to calm herself. Tried to feel the music. Tried to think about why she was here, in the middle of a heard of strippers dressed like a whore. If her parents knew what she was doing…If anyone knew what she was doing…

This wasn't her. This was not something Hermione Granger would do. Ever. She did not give lap dances to strangers.

But then she remembered why she was here. For Draco. A calm came over her. Ok. It was just a lap dance in the name of love. She could do that. She could do this for him.

"Hey, you! Over here!" a voice commanded. Her head snapped over, and she gasped. It was him. The king of darkness. All that was evil. All that was bad in her life.

Lucius.

He was calling her. Did he recognize her?

"Come dance for me, kitten," he commanded. Oh god, she was going to puke. That was just disgusting. Where was his wife?

She slowly danced her way over to where he was sitting, half in the shadows next to a table stack with a pyramid of wine glasses, doing her best to hide what part of her face showed with the wig. She had to distract him from looking at her face! 

Wait a tick. She was wearing underwear. Of course he wasn't going to look at her face.

She quickly removed her coat and approached him, licking her lips and doing her best not to think about what she was doing. But the hairs on her neck were standing up at the thought of being to close to him. She felt suddenly colder as she neared him. He just FELT evil. There was no warmth to him. His soul was dead.

Hermione smiled and ran her finger over her lower lips, then tip her head back as she pulled it between her breasts. Someone shouted something obscene to her left and she was shocked when she turned and found Crabbe gawking at her. Well if this wasn't just one giant nightmare!

"Hey," came a low, sinister whisper. Her head shot back over to Lucius, who was staring directly into her eyes. Her body went cold. "Who are you behind that mask?" he asked.

No. He couldn't. He couldn't know, it was impossible. There was no way…

But the way he was looking at her…

"It doesn't matter," she said in a husky voice, trying to smile.

"Take off the mask," he said, "I want to see your face."

Hermione thought quickly, "I'm sure I have other things that you'd rather see."

He didn't blink, just pressed his fingers together before him and calmly replied, "I'm sure you are mistaken. Remove the mask."

Hermione backed away. Her mind was spinning. What should she do? Was it dark enough for him not to recognize her? Was it worth the chance? Should she just run away? Would he chase her? No, this wasn't supposed to happen! This plan was supposed to run smoothly! She back up further, tripping and feeling her wand chafe against her ankle.

Did she dare?

Suddenly two chubby hands were on her breasts. In her sheer dumb surprise, Hermione fell backwards, right into a body that was soft and sweaty. She let out a squeal as the vertigo hit her and she and her assaulter went crashing to the floor. Glass exploded and she realized they'd hit the table with the wine decoration. A flood of warm, strong smelling red liqueur doused her.

She quickly stumbled up, finding Crabbe laying on the floor in a puddle of blood, holding his left arm. Well, served him right, she thought. She saw Lucius rise, and suddenly everyone was screaming. Oh no, they must have mistaken the noise for the cue to start terrorizing the strippers. 

Well, thank heaven for small miracles, she thought as a huge spider ballooned up from the center floor. Now was her chance to get away. 

She dashed into the crowd, shouting Ginny's name. She kept getting pushed by frantic women trying to escape. She felt horrible for the poor Muggles, but what could she do? She had to concentrate on what she was doing here.

"Hermione! Run!"

Hermione looked over to find Ginny struggling over. The joined hands and made their way back to the secret door, slipping into the hall unnoticed.

"Ginny, I think Lucius recognized me," Hermione cried.

Ginny licked her lips. Her eye's were wide and glittery, darting back and forth in the dark. She let out a breath, "Well, we took the chance that something like that could happen. We'll just have to find Malfoy and get-"

She stopped short when Hermione suddenly went dazed. Her body went limp and she wobbled back. Ginny grabbed her in time to lower her to the floor safely. Hermione head rolled to the side and her lips fell open. She looked as if she were seeing something. But Ginny looked around and all she saw was the dark, empty hall.

"Hermione! Hermione stop it!" she said, shaking her friend. But Hermione was frozen, catatonic.

"Hermione, you're scaring me. Please stop it. Please! Hermione!" Ginny cried in alarm. Soon panic turned to terror, as Hermione started to make a low moaning sound. It was unearthly. Ginny dropped her grip and back away to the opposite wall. She wished her friends name again softly, but the moaning just got louder. Suddenly, Hermione eye's rolled back and her body went completely rigid, convulsing once.

Ginny scream just as Hermione screamed, covering her eyes with her hands.

"Hermione!"

*~*~*

Darkness. Blackness, the kind your eyes just didn't adjust to. Any sound was cause for alarm, because with out sight, you lost your defenses. It was a helpless feeling. 

And after a while of not seeing, you stopped feeling. The cold stone numbed your skin. Sensation was lost. It was like being in a void. Deprived of everything but your own thoughts.

And after a while your thoughts betrayed you as well. What once was sane and logical grew confusing and disturbed. Thinking in a straight line was difficult. Remembering was even harder. How much time had just gone by? Had you been sitting for an hour? A day? A week? Did you sleep? Did you dream? If so, what was the dream and what was real? It was so confusing.

Draco lay flat on his back, staring up (or was it down? Or sideways?) and thinking about these things. It was true, he wasn't sure how long he'd been here. He considered the aching in his stomach and the dry, stickiness of his mouth. He certainly had been here a few days. 

He'd tried to stand once too…maybe a few hours ago, or maybe more than that. But his head went hazy and bright spots flashed before him and his legs gave away. He was weak. Weak and crazy. He was as good as dead. Whatever they wanted to do to him, they could. Because he couldn't fight back.

He knew that was what they wanted.

Then suddenly, his void was invaded by something foreign. It was sound. Loud sound. People. A party? THE party? The end of summer party?

More days had passed than he'd thought, then. 

He hated that party. It was sick. His whole family was sick for participating. Well, his mother didn't. She just turned a blind eye to the whole thing and left for the weekend with the women.

Draco expected to be angry but he wasn't. He expected to feel disgusted. Instead, he felt something inside him he hadn't experienced in a while. Hope. But why? It didn't make sense. It didn't-

*~*~*

"Draco's in the ground!" Hermione screamed, her eyes suddenly coming alive and her body relaxing.

Ginny screamed again, then choked on her inhaled breath. She rushed to Hermione.

"Oh my God, what just happened?" she asked.

"I don't know. I…I…saw…"

Ginny stopped her, "You went limp and just fell. And you're eyes were glazed over, and you started moaning. It was creepy. And then you started screaming and your whole body jerked and then…and then…you were fine."

Hermione looked surprised, "Oh God. Ginny, I saw Draco. He's in some kind of basement."

"A dungeon," Ginny said. "They have a dudgeon here, but I don't know where it is."

Hermione looked around, "I think I might. Follow me."

Ginny watched Hermione as she took off running in no particular direction. After pausing a moment, she followed. The two darted in and out of rooms, ran down halls and stairs until the air got damper and heavier. Hermione stopped once and then completely turned and back tracked. Finally she paused before a heavy wooden door and nodded confidently.

"This is it," she said, breathing heavily from her run. She pressed her ear to the door, "This is it."

"Can you hear him?" Ginny asked.

"No. But I know he's down here. Back up." Hermione drew her wand and shouted a spell which busted open the lock on the door. It creaked open slightly.

A thin crack of light slashed through the darkness. Cold air rushed out of the room. Hermione shivered as a nasty feeling came over her. Something was wrong with the room. It was a black hole. She ground her teeth together as she backed away.

"This isn't right-" Ginny started. But she was interrupted by a hoarse, grave voice.

"Please," the voice said.

Hermione's mouth dropped. She knew it was him at once, but something wasn't right. It was him, but he sounded….defeated.

She shoved the door open and ran into the room, throwing herself over his body, hugging him close, as she yanked the wig down, freeing her hair. He felt cold and stiff. She heard a sniffling sound. Then a cough. Her eyes ran over his body. He wore a dirty and torn suit. Her gaze drifted to his hands, scrapped. She clasped her own over his, pulling them up. She wanted to feel them on her body.

"Who is it," he asked, his fingers pressing her stomach. His palms went flat and he ran them over her, up to her shoulders, then to her face. He paused at the mask, and pulled it down slowly. His skin barely grazed hers. An electric shock sparked between them. The mask fell away and she finally lifted her eyes to his face.

"Hermione," he said. His lips parted, then came together and a deep frown came over him. He made a strange, choking sound. She leaned down and kissed his cracked lips. He kissed her back with what little strength he seemed to posses. Hermione invaded his mouth, wanting to kiss him deeper, wanting to get inside him. It was him. It was really him. Her Draco. He was here, alive, and wanting her.

She felt like a weight had been lifted, as if her should blades shifted. She felt light and heavy all at once. When she tasted a saltiness and realized he was crying, she started crying too. 

He sat up, holding her close. She grabbed onto him, latched on. 

"Hermione, I'm going crazy," Draco whispered, "I…I did something bad. I was scared and…"

She shook her head, "No, Draco. Listen to me. You aren't crazy. You've just been alone to long."

Tears streaked down his face. He looked so beautiful. He looked better to her than anyone had looked to her in her life. Even as he was, dirty, scraped, bleeding, he was an angel. His dove gray eyes crinkled as he spoke and reflected something back at her. He was looking straight at her, into her. Then he smiled the sweetest smile she'd ever seen.

"I…don't deserve this," he stammered tearfully.

"Shut up, Draco," she responded teasingly, kissing his forehead. He beamed like a little boy.

She looked him over again. "We've got to get out of here."

He nodded, then explained that he couldn't get up. Hermione nodded and called to Ginny. She rushed in, sniffling.

"Not you too," Hermione laughed, wiping her face.

Ginny giggled, "I'm sorry. It's just…Anyway, lets go before Lucius finds us."

"Does he know you're here?" Draco asked, as the girls arranged themselves around him, putting their arms under him and preparing to lift.

"He might," Hermione answered truthfully. Draco groaned and dropped his head back as they lifted him. He braced himself with his arms around both their necks as they shuffled out of the room. Draco's eyes squinted in the light. Slowly, they opened back up and he looked at the two girls.

"Why are you dressed like hookers?" he asked hoarsely.

"It wasn't easy to get in here, you know," Hermione said. Then she frowned, "We can't carry him. It'll take too long. Draco, you're gonna have to try and stand. We'll hold you up, but you have to walk."

Draco agreed and they set his legs on the stone. After a few falters, they got moving, weaving their way back through the mansion.

"Shit, look, it's raining," Ginny said as they passed a window. "I don't like flying in the rain."

"We don't really have a choice," Hermione answered, shaking her head. She nodded forward, "There's the door. The boys should be waiting outside.

"Boy's?" Draco asked.

"Harry and Ron."

Draco closed his eyes. "Why?"

Hermione looked down at him, "What do you mean, why?"

"Why would they want to help me?"

"Because I want to help you. They trust my judgment of your character," she said.

Suddenly, Ginny stopped moving. Draco slipped off her shoulder abd Hermion had to grab him. "Ginny!" she snapped. Then she got a look at her friend. She was frozen and pale.

"Shhh. Listen," she said. They did. Somewhere nearby they could hear voices. Angry voice.

"My dad," Draco confirmed. 

Hermione and Ginny grabbed him and turned around, trying to drag him forward but he wouldn't cooperate.

"No, no. We wont have time to get to the other door," he protested.

"But they are coming from the other way. They'll see us when we're going out the door," Ginny said frantically.

"Well, then hurry, cuz that's the only chance we've got. I'm serious. My dad knows this house better than you two. He'll have wizards blocking every door, if he doesn't already."

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other, and turned. Draco's feet scrambled against the floor. They ran forward, trying to ignore the voices that were getting much closer. Further down the hall, a orange glow appeared flickering on the walls. Hermione shifted Draco and tore at the door. It opened, and she let out a whoosh of breath. 

Cold air and rain pelted them and some yelled over the storm. It was Harry and Ron, but Hermione couldn't tell what they said. Down the hall, someone was yelling louder. 

"Stop, Mudblood! Draco! Draco, don't you DARE leave me."

"Go," Draco urged through his teeth. Hermione could feel his pulse racing. "GO!"

"Draco! What are you doing!"

Hermione's head jerked over to see Lucius racing towards them with a pose of other wizards. They all had their wands raised. Hermione thought quickly, pulling Draco arm off her and pushing him towards Ginny. Then she reached down to her boot and cast a counter spell that would ward off theirs for a few seconds. It worked, thankfully, but not for long.

Ginny yanked Draco out the door and Hermione followed, slamming the door shut. She preformed a locking spell, the same one she used on her door in her room. She knew it wouldn't last long against these wizards.

Ginny and Draco slipped in the muddy grass. Hermione was quickly at their side. Pulling them up. Draco was coughing and sputtering, sounding horrible. Lightning forked through the sky, rippling and crackling. Wind whipped their hair and clothes and the rain pelted stung.

"Over here!" came a quiet scream. Hermione eyes darted around at the lightning lit grounds and spotted Harry and Ron running towards them. Behind her, the door she'd locked busted open. 

"Get on your brooms and go," she yelled to Harry and Ron, unsure if they heard her. Then she preformed a summoning spell that sent two wands speeding their way. She grabbed both, tossing on to Ginny.

"Go!" she screamed, and Ginny straddled it quickly and kicked off, disappearing into the sheets of rain.

She scrambled with her own broom, hoping that if Ron and Harry hadn't heard her, they'd at least seen Ginny take off and followed suit.

A bright light zoomed by her and for a moment she thought it was lightning, but quickly realized it was worse. They were attacking her. She was being attacked by dark wizards. 

It was hard to breath with the rain. It was so heavy it was like drowning. She struggled to get a good grip on Draco, forcing him onto the broom. Her gripped the front as she slid in behind him, dodging another attack by mere inches.

She tried once to kick off but Draco in his drenched suit was too heavy. She grabbed the jacket from around him and yanked it off. Another attack whizzed by, nearly nicking Draco's head. 

"Push off!" she yelled, dropping the coat. They did so simultaneously, zipping upwards. Draco took control of the broom, and Hermione did her best to keep him on it. He was a great Quiddich player, rivaling even Harry, but he wasn't strong right now. He still needed her help. 

The tow rose and dove through the sky, dodging left and right. Soon the attacks were coming slower, not quite reaching them, and a few minutes later they'd stopped. The rain let up the higher they flew and Hermione wrapped her shivering body around Draco, laying her head on his back.

"We did it," he called back joyously.

"For now," Hermione whispered. Draco didn't hear over his own laughter and screams. He sent the broom higher and higher, urging the old thing faster and fast until they finally broke away from the storm to a place where the clouds were parting and the blue sky was peeking through. Stars glittered like handfuls of diamonds strewn across it, and the clouds became wispy and silver. 

Draco struggled to turn his head. "We did it, Hermione. You did it. You saved me."

"Did you want to be saved," she asked seriously.

He narrowed his gaze. "What sort of question is that?"

"I mean did you want to leave. Did you want to stay with your parents and-"

"Become a Dark Wizard and never see you again? Of course not. Hermione. I think…I think…"

Hermione looked at him, his hair rippling as they speed across the dark cerulean sky. Silver and blue. "What?" she asked.

"I think," he tried again, and then pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss was soft and hot, speaking something that Draco couldn't say.

Hermione hopped he was trying to say what she thought he was trying to say. Because like it or not, she loved him to.


	11. Bad Faith

Author's Notes: I sincerely apologize for how long it took me to get this out and the shortness of this chapter. After a few reviews advised to end my story, and even more thought it HAD ended (does anyone read the authors notes?) I was afraid that what I wrote next wouldn't encourage continuing this story. I had to make sure there was still adequate conflict. Well, I knew there, was but I had to make sure you readers thought so too. So, in closing, I'm sorry to anyone who thought it should have ended last chapter. While that would have been a blissful finish, it wouldn't have been truthful. Hermione and Draco have quite a ways to go before they get their 'happy ending'…

"My foundation was rocked, my tried and true way to deal was to vanish  
My departures were old, I stood in the room shaking in my boots  
At that particular time love had challenged me to stay  
At that particular moment I knew not run away again  
That particular month I was ready to investigate with you  
At that particular time."

- 'That particular Time', by Alanis Moresette

Hermione trailed her fingers through the steaming water, swirling the frothy bubbles around above Draco's chest. She was reclining naked against the side of the tub, watching her lover relax and warm himself. Enchanted bubbles created to sooth his scrapes and cuts bobbed on the surface. Steam filled the room like a London fog and an arrangement of mismatched, half burnt candles hovered in the air.

Hermione stretched her legs, flexing her toes against the soaked clothes that were strewn over the counter and toilet. They were currently occupying the smallest of the bathrooms at the Weasley's. Everyone else had gone to bed. 

"What are you going to tell his parents about why I'm here?" Draco asked in a quiet voice. He was leaning his head against the back of the tub and watching her. Hermione shrugged. 

"We didn't think that far," she explained. "I honestly wasn't sure you'd want to come back with me."

"I still can't believe what you did. I can't believe anyone would go through all that for me."

Hermione frowned, "Then you haven't had very good friends."

He shook his head, "I haven't had a very good family."

"What do you mean?"

"They locked me in the dungeon, Hermione. Would your parents do that to you?" he didn't wait for her to answer, "My parent's never grounded me or put me in time out. They hardly ever even punished me. The just didn't care. I used to try and piss them off on purpose, just so they'd look at me. But they ignored it. Everything. I used to do some horrible stuff, Hermione. Really horrible. I sometimes think I'm so fucked up. I-" he didn't finish. He pulled one hand from the water, holding a blob of bubbles on one hand and crushed it with his fist. "You wouldn't understand. You're so perfect."

"Draco, I'm not-"

He looked at her, "I know. But your better than me. I treated you so badly. You and your friends. And look at all you've done for me! You saved me."

She shook her head, "Don't think of it like that. I'm sure you would have-"

"Done the same?" he sputtered, "Do you really think so? Do you think I'm that…that brave and noble? I'm not. I'm not like you."

Hermione took his hand, "You…you grew up different. You're right, we can't understand what you went through."

"I grew up like Harry," he said suddenly. Hermione blinked.

"What?"

"I said I grew up like Harry. His family treats him like shit. Look how he turned out. I was so jealous of him. I tried to make friends with him that first day at Hogwarts. But it was too late. He had you guys. He had everything, everything I wanted." He stopped suddenly, eyes' flashing, "Oh my God, Hermione. Who did you sleep with? Who did you give it away to the first time?"

Hermione's mouth dropped. She looked flustered a moment, then stammered, "Why does it matter?"

"Who?" he persisted. "WHO?"

"Shhh. You'll wake them up. It's not-"

"Just tell me!"

"It's was…It was Harry."

Suddenly, he stood up, water splashing over the side of the tub. He knocked his head on one of the floating candles as he stepped out of the tub. Hermione turned.

"Where are you going?" she asked, standing. He was headed for the door. She grabbed the dry robe she'd brought in with her and pulled it on. It was long, draping to her feet, tripping her up and she batted at the candles and followed him. She grabbed his arm, slick with water.

"I can't stay here," he said briskly.

"Well, you can't leave naked," Hermione pointed out. He went back and pulled on his wet pants, grabbing his shirt as well.

"My father will be looking for me. I can't endanger you. I have to leave," he said.

"Draco, stop acting crazy," Hermione snapped.

Draco went stiff, then his upper lip curled up into a sneer. He looked at her with contempt, "But I am crazy, Hermione. I'm a crazy Death Eater. You and I don't belong together."

"What? Draco! Of course we do. Don't talk like that. You aren't a…"

"Not a Death Eater? See for yourself," he said, and grabbed her wand from the counter, pointing it at his left bicep. He said a spell Hermione recognized as a cosmetic spell used to hide pimples and other blemishes.

Hermione gasped and backed away.

His prefect skin raised up, turned violently red and swollen. And mixed in between deep cuts and shinny burns was a mutilated green Dark Mark.

She didn't know what to say. She couldn't speak. She couldn't move. Draco did instead. He threw the wand to the floor and grabbed her wrists.

"See! This is who I am, Hermione. You may be able to save me from my family, but you can't save me from who they are or what they are!"

"They did this?" Hermione whispered.

He nodded, "They held me down on my 16th birthday and burned it into my arm. I screamed and cried and they wouldn't stop. They don't care about me or what I want."

He swallowed deeply, "They wont give up. They'll hunt me down and kill me. And you. Because they can't have a son who disobeys them. They can't have a son who loves a Mudblood. They can't have a son who's less than perfect. Ask Harry what it's like to be hated for something you can't help. He'd understand."

"Draco, we can do something. We can hide, or make them understand. We can-"

"No. There's nothing we can do," he snapped, releasing her hands. He turned towards the door.

"Don't leave," Hermione said quietly, "Not after I just found you again."

He stopped. Then turned. He stepped back to her, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her against the wall. He looked directly into her eyes from a few inches away, his lips touching hers as he spoke. "I'm sorry. I'm more sorry than you'll ever know. You're the only person who's ever treated me like I was worth something."

Then he kissed her, deeply, madly. When he pulled away a tear slipped out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm coming with you?" she said.

"No."

"You don't have a choice," she said firmly.

"What?"

"You don't have a choice. You owe me."

"No, no. I…You aren't listening! I can't!"

"I heard everything you said. And you're right. You are crazy. But only because you can't see who you really are. Everyone makes mistakes, Draco. You're entitled to them. You learn from them. And you have been learning. So have I. You aren't the person I thought you were. You're so much better. And you're getting better everyday. But don't make another mistake and leave me behind."

He turned suddenly and grabbed one of the bobbing candles from the air and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and crumbled, the pieces all still hovering. 

"Damn it!" he yelled, "You're right. I hate when you're right."

Hermione stared at him in astonishment and then laughed. He laughed too. He pulled her to him, and held her.

"What are we going to, 'Moine?" he asked her, kissing the top of her head.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "But I'm sure we can come up with something. We got this far, didn't we?"

*~*~*

Draco laid in the small extra bed in Ginny's room next to sleeping Hermione. She was turned towards him, her lips open, breathing heavily. He didn't know how she could sleep. Her life could be in danger, and because of him. It was true, he didn't want to leave her again. But he owed to it her to go.

She was too good for him, and she deserved far more than he could give her. She was meant for someone like Harry, a hero who could protect her from outside forces, but wouldn't have to protect her from himself. 

Look at her, he thought. She has no clue who she's in bed with. She thinks I'm someone I'm not.

Hermione had the amazing ability to see the good in people. She searched it out and held it up like a trophy. But she had a tendency not to look past that, deeper than that. She couldn't see that while people all had goodness in them, they also had a darker side. Some had a much darker side.

Like him.

While he was locked away, he'd had a lot of time to think. Mostly about himself. He'd drudged up memories that he'd forced down long ago. There were things that at times he'd refused to see about himself. But now he was fully aware of all the things that he was. Good and bad. Right and wrong. Angel and monster.

He reached out and touched her face, letting his pale hand cover her cheek.

"Hermione," he whispered to his sleeping lover, "you trust me too much. You have no idea of the things I could do to you…"

Hermione just smiled in her sleep. Draco scowled and rose from the bed and grabbed him wand that Hermione had conjured up for him and conjured a pack of cigarettes. He slide three out, put one in his mouth and two in his pocket, then lit the end with his wand. He looked back at Hermione and left the room.

Five minutes later found him laying under the stars in front of the burrow, a trail of smoke swirling up to the sky. The grass was damp and sticking to the sides of his face, making his clothes feel cold. A cool breeze blew gently. Summer was ending. Just like this charade. 

God knew he didn't want it to, but he couldn't stop time. As much as he'd like to inhabit this romantic fantasy with Hermione the rest of his life, he couldn't. The season was changing and it was time to face reality. He was a Death Eater. 

What would happen if Voldemort rose again? Would he be forced to do dear old Voldie's bidding? Was the mark on his arm stronger than what was in his heart? He really didn't know. It chilled him to think about it, but his fate seemed bleak. 

"Need some company?"

Draco's head snapped up and he nearly dropped the cigarette from his lips. Harry stood not three feet from his, smiling densely. 

Draco shrugged, "Whatever. What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same," Harry said, plopping down beside him, "Not planning on running out on our Hermione, are you?"

Draco eyed Harry suspiciously, "Why would you think that?"

Harry didn't answered, just looked out at the view and at the dark sky, "The Muggles have a saying. Two wrongs don't make a right."

He turned to look at Draco searchingly. Draco shivered and looked a way, taking in a deep drag of his cigarette. "And what are you trying to say?"

"Just that running away wont solve anything. You can't run away forever."

"And what would you know about it?" Draco snapped. Harry was really annoying, with his mystic, cosmic talk. He was sounding a lot like Dumbledore.

"Maybe nothing. I'm just calling things the way I see them. Hermione really likes you, and you like her. Maybe you two are opposites, but that's good isn't it? You can balance each other out."

"Do you know what Malfoy means, Harry?" Draco asked suddenly. Harry shook his head. Draco continued. "Mal Foi. It's French for 'bad faith'."

Harry looked confused, "Yeah, so?"

"Doesn't that tell you anything? I'm not exactly a good person, am I? And it doesn't look like I'm destined for good this either."

Harry huffed, "Well, not with that attitude. Yeah, you're right. You haven't always done the right thing. You've made mistakes. But people can change. And I think you have."

Harry rose up, staring down at Draco with the wind pushing his hair back to reveal that prophetic scar. "All I'm saying is don't give up, Draco. Not on Hermione, and not on yourself. We aren't slaves to destiny. We can change things."

Draco didn't answer and Harry turned away, heading back to the house. Draco just stared after him, watching his disappear through the door. He took another long drag off his cigarette before smashing it out in the damp grass, thinking hard.

Because what Harry had just said was exactly what made THEM different from HIM. They'd been brought up in a world of hope, thinking they could do anything. And maybe they could. But for Draco, things were different. There was no hope for him. He wouldn't allow himself to even consider that. He didn't want to be hurt again.

*~*~*

"He's gone," Hermione declared finally, after searching the Burrow and the land around it for entire two hours. She flopped down on the sofa, "He's gone," she said again, as if trying to taste the words, to feel their meaning. Inside, she felt fuzzy. A cold feeling was curled deep in the pit of her stomach, and slowly expanding.

"Why?" she murmered. Harry and Ron stood in front of her, uncomfortably, not sure what to say. Neither answered, but both cringed when Hermione lowered her face into her hands. Been when she brought it up, no tears stained her cheeks. Instead, her face was a mask. 

Stone faced.

She stood up.

"Well, now what? Do I give up on him?" she asked, more to herself then to them, but Harry answered.

"After all that, you would consider giving up?" he asked.

"What am I supposed to think, Harry? If he really lo- likes me, why would he leave?"

"Maybe he's scared," Ron said, and everyone looked at him. He blushed right up the his red hair, and looked at the ground.

"What do you mean," Hermione asked, stepping closer.

Ron shrugged, "I don't know. I guess, well he's not like us, is he? Maybe that's what he's afraid of. That you two are too different."

"Doesn't he know that I KNOW we're different? It doesn't matter!"

"But maybe he can't see it that way," Harry said. Suddenly, Ginny stumbling into the room, gripping a scroll between white knuckles.

"Guys! The fireplace just spit this out. I think it's from Draco!"

Hermione grabbed it before Ginny had time to say anything else. She pulled it open, eyes suctioned the words.

'I'm so sorry, Hermione.

I couldn't stay. I know I lied to you. I had to.

I know you can't understand this now. Maybe one day you will. And maybe not. But if I stayed, I would be putting you in danger. No matter what we are to each other, to everyone else we're a Malfoy and a Mudblood. You deserve better than that, and better than me.

You have great friends. I know they'll take care of you, and you'll be fine without me.

I do love you. Isn't that weird, how things turn out?

Malfoy'

Hermione crumpled the paper in her fist. A muscle in her jaw twitched. 

"Why did you do that? What did it say?" Ron asked, trying to grab at it.

"Nothing," Hermione snapped, then she shoved the paper in her pocket. Then she looked at Ron. "If my parents call, tell them I've decided to stay another week."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Where do you think I'm going? I have to find him," she answered, sounding sure of herself, despite the fact that her hands were shaking.

"What!? How?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know."

Then she left the room, followed closely by Ginny. As she did, the little ball of crumpled paper fell out of her pocket. Ron picked it up and held it out to Harry, who opened it. Both read silently, then Harry lower it slowly.

Neither said anything, but both understood what they needed to do. 

*~*~*

Hermione sat outside the Burrow, a top her upright suitcase, looking up at the twilight sky. She wondered briefly why happiness was so hard to obtain. Why couldn't she and Draco just be together, effortlessly, with no doubts. Or why she couldn't just accept that maybe they weren't meant to be, and move on, and forget about him?

But neither of those fantasies was satisfying. It felt better to win after overcoming the obstacles. And that's all these were. Challenges. One's she could conquer. 

She had to convince Draco that they could be together. She had to show him he didn't need to be afraid. That she loved him for every thing he was, AND wasn't.

But first, she had to find him.

She looked around her, at the other suitcases piled by the dusty road, and at her friends, gathered around, bags in tow. 

"Thank you guys again, for coming with me," she said, smiling at the three of them.

"Hey, that's what friends are for," Harry said, tugging his bag off the ground. He pointed off in the distance, "Here comes the Knight Bus. Everybody ready to go?"


	12. Looking For Answers

Author's Note: Yes, this took awhile. Again, I'm sorry. It takes me a while to feel right about what I'm writing. This fic is close to an end. Be forewarned.

"Where are you going, where do you go?  
Are you looking for answers   
to questions under the stars?  
If along the way you are growing weary,  
You can rest with me until a brighter day  
It's okay   
  
I am no superman  
I have no answers for you   
I am no hero, oh that's for sure  
But I do know one thing for sure  
Is where you are, is where I belong  
I do know, where you go  
Is where I want to be."

~ 'Where Are You Going?' by Dave Mathews Band  


"If you were Draco, where would you go?"

"I'll tell you where I wouldn't go. Anywhere near my father," Ron answered, punctuating his point with his index finger. Then he grabbed the bag of Bernie Bott's Every Flavor Bean in his lap and tipped it to his lips, dumping the contents into his mouth. 

Hermione groaned, dropping her hand to the floor. She lay across one of the beds in the Knight Bus, with Ron and Ginny sitting a top the bed across from her, and Harry in front, thrown length wise across another, hanging his head over the edge upside down. It was sometime deep in the night, and none of them really had a clue where they were or where they were going.

The only other passengers on the bus were a pudgy old women who'd been there when they boarded, who was contently muttering to herself, and a mother and her two obnoxious children who wouldn't go to sleep. Instead, they ran up and down the aisle, giggling and screaming, much the annoyance of everyone, except the old women, who was off in her own world.

"God, I can't think with all this ruckus," Ginny said grumpily as the two children attempted to roll under the beds and got stuck under hers and Ron's. She bent over and put her head under the bed and proceeded to tell off the children, sending them scrambling back to their mother. Satisfied, she leaned back, smiling faintly.

"Would he stay in wizard villages or Muggle places, do you think?" Ron asked, examining a bean he'd dropped and then popping it in his mouth.

"Probably Muggle areas. It'd be harder for his father to find him," Harry said.

"True, but would he stay in England? He wouldn't leave the country, would he?" Hermione asked, sitting up and looking suddenly horrified.

"He might. But it'd be hard. He'd have to get a passport and he's not recorded in the Muggle records because he's a full blood wizard," Harry said.

"I say he wouldn't leave the country. That'd be a bit much, wouldn't it?" Ron said. Ginny nodded.

"But we can't be sure," Hermione insisted.

"Or can you?" said a voice.

They all snapped up and looked around, seeing only the old women, staring blankly ahead. Ron scooted towards the aisle and leaned toward her seat.

"Hey! You there! Did you say something?" he asked her.

Slowly, the women turned her head. She clasped her hands in her lap and cast sparkling violet eyes on Ron. "And what if I did?" she asked.

Ron looked flustered, so Harry spoke for him, "Well what did you mean by that?"

The old women took a deep breath, drawing herself and thrusting out her ample bosom. "I guess I meant exactly what I said," she answered. 

"Well, exactly what was it that you said again?" Ron asked.

"I said what I said. You heard me the first time, I believe," said the old lady, clearly enjoying the confused look on Ron's face. 

Ginny rolled her eyes, "What they are trying to ask is, could you explain why you implied that maybe we could be sure where our friend is."

A smile gathered on the women's made up lips and she winked at Ginny, "I like you, girl. That was very well said."

"Thank you!" Ginny said, beaming. Hermione cleared her throat.

"Oh, right. What I meant was that I may know where your 'friend' resides," the women said to Hermione. She looked Hermione over and added, "Not that I approve of your improper relationship with this boy." Then she shrugged, "But you look like a nice enough girl. Can't say I blame you. This boy is quite a looker, isn't he?"

"How do you know?" Hermione asked apprehensively. 

"Sometimes we don't have to see things with our eyes," the women answered.

Hermione groaned, "Just what I need. Another Treelawnie."

"Now, now, girl! Don't go knocking the gift when you've experienced it yourself."

"I have not!" Hermione protested loudly.

"Ah, but you have. Back in that hallway, in a very large house. Your friend here can vouch for that," she said, gesturing to Ginny. 

Ginny smiled and nodded, "She's right, 'Moine!"

"So, do you know where Malfoy is?" Ron asked eagerly. Hermione shot him a look.

The women lowered her heavy, creased eyelids and shrugged, "Maybe I do and maybe I don't."

"Please tell us!" Ginny begged excitedly.

Then women's face softened and another smile broke out, "You're a nice girl. A little wild maybe, but a nice girl. I'll tell you what, you have quite a year ahead you. You're going to have a romance with someone very unexpected. Oh, it gives me goose bumps, it's all very exciting!" she squealed. 

Ginny was eating it right up, "Really? Wow! What else?"

"Well, I see you having a bit of trouble on your exams, but it'll turn out alright. That doesn't mean you shouldn't study, mind you. Destiny CAN be changed and you wouldn't want to make a mess for yourself up by thinking that it can't be."

"I hate to interrupt, but could you please tell us where Draco is?" Hermione interjected.

The women turned a cold eye on Hermione, "It would do you some good to listen to all this, young lady. This is stuff you'll need to know one day."

"Fine, ok. I'm listening."

"I can tell you where your boyfriend is, but you must listen to this warning. As much as you may think you know this boy inside and out, you don't. He's right when he says there are some things you don't understand. He's hurting inside and he needs someone to heal him, but to do that, you must listen to him and believe what he says. He has a good heart, although he sometimes doesn't show it. If you play your cards right, he'll be yours forever and you'll find in him your other half. Your soul mate. But if you're careless with him, he'll turn cold on you. And if that happens, well, that's bad for more than just you. That would have devastating effects on the entire wizarding world."

Hermione was silent, for once, staring into the women's purple eyes, which had stopped sparking and turning into deep orbs. She nodded once and the women continued.

"I trust that you'll do the right thing. Remember, your friends are always there to help you. You have very, very good friends. Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it."

She paused, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. For a minute, the four friends held their breath. She reopened her eyes to a whoosh of air.

"Get off at the stop that is twelfth after…" she paused and the bus pulled to a stop. "This one," she finished. She turned and gathered her bag from under her bed, then slowly eased herself up, rubbing her back. She stepped into the aisle and then turned back, "Look for him in the place you'd least expect him to be. Don't pay attention to logic, listen only to your senses and you'll know what's right. And hurry. He needs you all."

With that, she smiled at each of them, wished them luck, and departed, climbing off the bus and disappearing promptly. In her place, three middle aged men and two women took seats at the front of the bus.

As it started up again, Hermione turned to her friends and shrugged casually, "Guess that's as good a plan as any. Start counting."

*~*~*

Draco felt lost. Quite literally, he was. But it was more than just that.

He was in a strange place, not just because he'd never been to this city. He felt strange in his own skin. Earlier he'd been so sure, so sure he had to leave. It was for the best, he told himself over and over. It was for the best.

But that was a lie. He saw that now. Shuffling down a dark street, with rain drizzling down, he felt a pain inside his chest. He felt bruised all over, maybe from beating himself up, he thought.

God, wasn't he just a fucking poet.

Anyway, metaphors aside, he really did feel terrible. Terrible for leaving her. For giving up so easily. Not that giving up had been easy. It had been the hardest thing he'd ever done.

Maybe he should juts go back. Back to the Burrow. Or maybe back to his apartment. He could write her from there, ask her to come back to him and forgive him for being a incomparable idiot. 

Yeah, right.

He wouldn't know what to say to her. He didn't have the words for what he felt now and had felt in the hours he spent running away from her. He couldn't explain his motives. She wouldn't understand. He barely understood himself. 

So, no. He couldn't go back. But what was he going to do now, without her? He felt stuck.

God, what a coward he was. If only he could do something. If he could get himself together, maybe he could change something.

A low rumble alerted him that the rain was about to get heavy. He looked up and noticed that the sky had grown very dark. Pitch dark. He darted under the overhanging of a restaurant as the rain suddenly flooded down.

He swallowed and leaned against the building. And he had an idea.

He'd made quite a few mistakes in his life, but maybe there was one thing he could set right. The idea was terrifying. He shivered at the thought. But maybe it was all he could do. Maybe…

He took a deep breath and couldn't seem to get enough air. Without giving it another thought, he dashed out into the storm, running towards the nearest taxi. 

*~*~*

Hermione stared out the window of the bus.

"This can't be right," she muttered.

Ginny popped up next to her, smashing her face on the glass, "She said it would be the last place we'd expect."

Ron shook the bed as he leapt onto it, next to Harry who was looking out the window as well. Ron regarded what lay beyond skeptically.

"It's a field," he announced.

"We can see that, you bloody idiot," Ginny snapped. 

Hermione turned away as the bus slowed. She struggled to appear calm as she said, "Well, get your stuff and lets get going."

Ron's mouth dropped, "You can't be serious. 'Mione, this has got to be some kind of mistake. It's a FIELD!"

Hermione shook her head, "This field is all we have. That women was our only clue. We don't have a choice."

"We do too have a bloody choice! We could turn around right now and go home!"

"Ron…" Harry said warily.

"No. Ron, is that what you want? Is that what all of you want? Be honest with me," Hermione implored, standing up before the bunch of them on the bed. "Do you want to go home?"

They were all silent for a moment, then Ginny shook her head.

Harry looked at her and back up at Hermione, "I'm going to stay with you. You stood by me when we were up against Voldie. Now it's my turn to stand by you."

Ginny nodded in agreement, "Malfoy had faith in us as friends. If he does, then we ought to have faith in ourselves, right?"

Ron looked down and groaned, the let out a string of curses, "Fucking hell, how do I always get myself into these things?"

They all laughed and smiled at each other, then gathered their bags. The bus pulled to a stop and after exchanging looks, they made their way off. 

Outside, they indeed were in the middle of a field. Lush grass surrounded wide, muddy puddles and rain fell lightly from the dreary sky. It was growing dark, and it wasn't the clouds. It was getting late. And they were alone in the middle of no where. That became increasingly evident as the Knight Bus disappeared, leaving them in the silence of the surrounding environment.

Harry shivered, "This is weird. There are no bird. No anything really."

Ginny moved closer to him, and appeared relieved when Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. She laid her head on his chest and glanced around, "He's right. It is strange."

Hermione spun in slow circle, taking everything in, though their wasn't much. A few tree dotted the landscape but little else surrounded them. It was just land and sky. Except…

Hermione stopped spinning and stepped off into one direction.

"Where are you going?" Harry called.

She waved to them, "This way, come on."

They all ran up the slight incline in the land, following Hermione closely. At first they seemed to be going nowhere but soon they saw what Hermione had noticed. 

She stopped as the hill they now saw that they were on dropped down steeply into a valley. Just beyond was a cluster of dark trees and brush that rose up to meet the clouding, steadily darkening sky.

"That looks familiar, doesn't it," Hermione said. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"But why?" Ginny asked, still snuggling onto Harry.

Hermione turned to face them and the wind suddenly gusted up from the valley, turning her hair into Medusa's snakes. Something in her eyes twinkled. She hadn't lost hope yet.

"Guess we're going to find out, aren't we?"

*~*~*

Draco stood very still. The taxi was long gone. The driver had looked confused when he's asked to be dropped off in what appeared to him to be an empty field. But he was a Muggle. He couldn't see the nightmare that lay before him. Not unless the spell was taken off.

The Malfoy mansion. It loomed intimidating just before Draco, surrounded by the iron fence and looking a bit out of it century, with it's stone exterior and the abundance of trees growing around it, darkening the lawn. Draco remembered when he was young, the house seemed scary to him. Outside and in. Home was never a comfortable place to be.

His home was never really a home. Just like his parents were never really parents.

He swallowed his anger, mentally preparing himself. He needed to be calm to do this. He needed to think rationally. He need to be on his toes, ready for anything. Anger would only blind him. A little passion would be ok, but he couldn't let his temper get out of control. 

He started towards the house slowly, reaching the fence and hoisting himself up. At it's highest point, he grew still as his skin started to prickle. He raised his eyes and looked around at the surrounding woods. 

There was a movement in the bushes, a flash of color. A dark figure was emerging.

The next thing he saw sent him tumbling over the fence into his yard.

*~*~*

Hermione jogged ahead of the group. They'd been in the woods for over and hour and it was completely dark. If not for the full moon, they would have been completely lost. Still, the eeriness of the woods urged Hermione faster. She had to get out of here. Her skin was cold. She didn't like this place. It seemed- stale. Old. Empty. Heartless.

Ahead of her, she saw something move. Her insides clenched up. She was half relived to see something else- anything - alive here. But it alarmed her as well. They hadn't seen anything thus far, so why now? It could be dangerous.

Not wanting to alarm her friends, and not entirely trusting her eyes, Hermione didn't call back, she simply sped up, tromping off alone. The trees started to break up and as suddenly as it had started, the forest ended. 

She gasped at what she saw. The Malfoy mansion lay just ahead of her, towering up into the purplish sky. An arrow tipped iron fence surrounded it, glittering in the moonlight.

The last place she would expect him to be.

So this was it. This is what the women on the bus had meant. This truly was the last place she would ever have looked for him. In fact, even if she had suspect her were here, she would have been tempted to put off coming. She didn't like this place. Not at all. The feeling it gave her was dreadful. The whole place had an air of wickedness.

Something moving caught her attention again. It was just beyond the fence. Appeased by the fact that whatever it was, it probably couldn't get to her without giving her time to run off with a bit of a head start, she stepped forward. 

"Hermione," a raspy voice said.

She froze as the hairs on her arms lifted. Her scalp tingled and a strange feeling ran up he spin.

"Hermione, come here."

Her eyes grew wide, staring into the darkness. A flash of white appeared. A lopsided smile. A familiar expression. Hands stretched out from the other side of the fence. 

"Good god, is it you?" she asked huskily. Her body was already hot. She felt a waterfall rush between her thighs.

Laughter.

"That it is. Come here now. I need to touch you."

Hermione wasted no time in flinging herself forward, colliding with the fence. She slipped her arms through the fence and grabbed him. He wrapped his arms around her back and yanked her forward. They pressed their faces between the bars and their lips met. An electrical crackle surged through Hermione. She parted her lips and ran her hands under his shirt, up his chest and to his shoulders, feeling the scars there. 

"Draco," she groaned.

Her ran his hands down her sides to her hips and tugged them forward. His own hips touched hers, the bars between them pressing into her thighs. She could feel his erection through his clothes. 

His lips seared onto hers, then pulled away. In the dark, he looked like a ghost, smiling in an un-saintly way. His hair fell like a white river, shimmering. His skin was white as death. He leaned forward and licked the tip of her nose, then laughed low and menacing.

"I wish I had time to taste you all over," he said. She shivered.

His hands ran up to her breasts, touching her through the material. His face went hard and serious suddenly and he slipped his arms around her back and pulled her into a crushing hug.

"I'm so sorry I left you," he sobbed against her shoulder. She gasped and pulled away.

"Draco, it's ok. I understand," she said, eyes wide. She touched his face.

"How can you?" he asked, "How can you just forgive me like that?"

Hermione didn't pause before answering, "Because I love you."

Another tear slipped out of Draco's eyes. "Oh thank God! I love you too. I love you so much."

They came together for another kiss, this one soft and hot. Conveying the truth in their words. They clasped hands through the fence.

"Sorry to interrupt…" A voice said.

They both jumped and Hermione spun around. Harry and Ron stood with Ginny just behind. Ginny was blushing as if she'd walked in on more than just a little kissing. In a way, she had. The moment was far more intimate than just a little making out.

"What's he doing?" Ron demanded, eyeing Draco on the other side of the fence.

Draco looked at Hermione, "That's what I want to tell you. I've decided I have to stand up to my father."

Hermione didn't think before answering, "Don't be stupid, Draco. He'll kill you!"

Draco's face dropped and he pulled his hands away from her, taking a step back.

"No. I didn't mean it like that. It not that I don't think your capable. It's just that your father is…"

"Crazy?" Ron offered.

"Dangerous," Hermione finished, ignoring Ron. "Draco, you can't risk this. You can't. Not now."

He shook his head, "I have to."

"Why?"

"Because if I don't…If I don't I'll never have done anything to deserve you."

Hermione scowled, "We've talked about this. You don't have to do anything."

Draco glanced around, back at the wonder twins and the fireball, Ginny. Then he leaned close to Hermione, and spoke quietly.

"Yes, but I can't ever believe that. I won't ever feel right about this until...until I do something. Please, try to understand."

"It's unfair to ME, Draco. Don't make me worry like this!" Hermione said, her voice agitated with oncoming tears of distress. "Please, don't. Please."

Draco's eyes grew wide and he looked strangely young and innocent. He took Hermione's hands through the gate and held them firmly. "Hermione, I PROMISE you, nothing will happen to me. You and I will be together. Nothing will get between us. This is just something I have to do."

"No."

"Yes."

"Draco…"

Draco silenced her with a kiss. She groaned sadly and squeezed is hands tightly as he broke away. He backed up, still holding onto her. They stared at each other for a minute in silence. Something grew between them. An energy. A force. Something.

"I'll be back," he said, and let go. He backed away.

Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears that stung, but she nodded.

"I'll be back," Draco repeated. Then he turned away, looking back once, and ran towards the mansion.

*~*~*

Lucius watched out the window at the figure spiriting towards his house. The boy who had once been his son was coming back home.

Well, Lucius had seen that little show by the fence. He'd seen his 'son' with that sickening little Mudblood. 

That boy was no longer his son. He never had been. He'd never been what Lucius had wanted him to be. He was an utter, and complete disappointment, and he cared no more for the boy now than he cared for his house elves.

And he would have no trouble killing him. No trouble at all. After all, Draco was an embarrassment to the Malfoy name, and he couldn't have that… 


End file.
